Brat
by The Petulant Prodigy
Summary: "So, basically, throwing me out a window was your first step in wooing me." "Perhaps." "Most people just go out for coffee." "Do not be ridiculous, Tony. We are not most people." M/M Tony/Loki
1. Chapter 1

_**First off, I'd like you to blame this story on awful liquid cold medicine. I'm thinking this story will run about 10 chapters.**_

_**WARNINGS: This will eventually contain M/M slash of the naughty variety, ridiculous situations, and completely fudged/cracked-out Loki mythology. Do NOT take anything Loki says as a reflection of the comics, movies or mythology itself. Since this is my fanfiction, I am doing whatever the hell I want with it because I make no profit on it. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. I don't own the Avengers or anything Marvel related. I don't own Robert Downey Jr. or Tom Hiddleston, but if I did, they would be having lots and lots of ridiculously creative sex. Just...sex everywhere. And they would talk more then they already do because I'm addicted to Tom's voice and Robert's humor. **_

_**And, with all that said...I hope you enjoy my first attempt at The Avengers. Good luck! -TPP**_

* * *

**Brat**

Part 1.

[or How Tony Yelled At A God And Got Away With It]

* * *

It was a typical Thursday night when genius billionaire playboy philanthropist Tony Stark realized he hadn't eaten in the last…

"Jarvis, when _is_ the last time I grabbed a bite to eat?"

"Approximately thirty-seven hours ago, sir. And may I recommend you consume something wholesome that does not contain caffeine or alcohol?"

Tony stared forlornly at his overused and extremely abused coffee maker, stroking it with oil-stained fingers before heading towards his industrial (read: sexy) stainless steel refrigerator. He'd been tinkering on a new side project for those thirty-seven hours, ignoring all sustenance that wasn't in a liquid form. He was covered in oil, grease, and all that other testosterone-y stuff.

And you better believe if he hadn't eaten in thirty-seven hours, he definitely hadn't _showered_ in thirty-seven hours. Tony was finally ready to fill his stomach then hit the showers. Maybe slip in a flask of bourbon and a few episodes of Top Gear he'd had Jarvis record before passing out.

_Alone._

Ugh. Tony was _so_ not ready to think about his lack of happy-fun-sex-times lately. With Fury breathing down his neck and the other Avengers constantly up his ass _("Let's go save a city in Uganda, Tony", "Stop robots from destroying that town in Sweden with the awesome chocolate, Tony", "Let the head weapons specialist shoot the latest-and-greatest S.H.I.E.L.D arsenal at you for shits and giggles, Tony")_, it was hard to find time for sleep and sustenance, much less sex.

Besides, it was easier to blame others for his lack of action lately. If he was being honest, there had been a lack of bad-guy-with-an-ego-tries-to-take-over-the-contine nt activity lately (how else had he, Bruce, and Clint managed a three day marathon of classic Disney flicks that nobody else in the world would _ever_ hear about, _ever?_ Especially when Bruce had tears in his eyes when Belle kissed The Beast and Clint had hummed along to _The Little Mermaid_ songs?)

"Laugh it up, Tin Man. Ariel's smokin' hot," Clint had said with a self-satisfied smirk.

Which, of course, Bruce and Tony had agreed and they'd all cracked open another beer. (See? Animated movies during Bro Time could be manly!)

But anyways, food. He was pretty sure he'd bypass a blonde in a bikini for a deep dish with green peppers and sausage at the moment.

_OH YEAH, TALK DIRTY TO ME…!_

He had just poked his nose into a safe-looking Chinese takeout container when he heard something like rustling from behind him. He cocked his head to the side, nose still buried in what smelled like leftover sesame seed chicken (Barton's favorite on Takeout Tuesdays) to meet cosmic green eyes set in a familiar pale face.

"Hey, Jarvis?" Tony called to his AI butler, "There a reason you didn't inform me of my guest?"

"I would have, sir, but it seems whomever is in the tower has tampered with my programming in some indiscernible way. I am unable to track thermally or vocally, and it appears your surprise party of one has managed to infiltrate without using a common method, such as a door."

"Don't get sassy with me, Jarv. Run a full system's check?"

"Inconclusive, sir."

So Jarvis hadn't even been able to sense Loki thermally? The scientist in Tony was both repulsed and intrigued. Every living thing gave off a thermal energy.

And if Jarvis announced when Thor was in the building (which Tony usually didn't need because he could hear the loud god long before he saw him) then it stood to reason even a slick god like Loki couldn't override that basic principle.

Then again, this was _LOKI, THE TRICKSTER GOD._ He was the devil in razorblade stilettos (and wasn't _that_ a picture? The god did seem to have legs that went on for _days_.)

"Right. Of course. Fantastic," Tony said, closing the refrigerator slowly like he might set off a bomb. His eyes were still locked on that of the rogue God of Lies who, last time Tony checked, had been locked up in a cushy palace up in the sky being guarded by an overprotective big brother.

Not many people could call prison a palace, but this lost prince sure got the deep end of the dream pool when it came to punishment.

Obviously his jail cell hadn't been too hard to break out of if the window-friendly mischief maker was standing in his (recently renovated) penthouse kitchen.

It'd been nine months since the Chitauri-and-their-creepy-pet-leviathon-whale-maji gs had taken a good chunk out of the city, but nothing a few fundraisers and Stark Industries contributions couldn't fix.

_Anyways,_ where was Tony going with this?

"Team Rocket," Tony said.

Loki gave him a strange look, "Excuse me?"

"Team. Rocket," Tony replied, "You know, the bad guys from Pokemon. Always trying to pull off all these little evil schemes, but they never actually win. By season 3 you can't even hate them anymore it's just that sad."

Loki just gave him an epic poker face, but Tony knew he'd thrown the god off with the strange Midgardian reference. Tony doubted the poor guy even knew it was a cartoon tv show.

"So can I help you or are you gonna just stand there all creepy and menacing? I'd prefer not to get stabbed while I work a microwave."

Loki caulked his head slightly, his eyes running over Tony's disheveled form (he didn't think he looked _that_ bad: what was wrong with comfy sweats and an Iron Maiden wife beater showing off his magnificent arms?) Or maybe it was the sludge from the renovated motorcycle he'd been tinkering on as a surprise for Bruce (since apparently he liked to steal them when he came to the rescue of New York. Honestly, where the _hell_ had he gotten that piece of shit before pittering in to save the day with the rest of them?)

But that was neither here nor there, considering Loki didn't exactly look all that creepy or menacing. Well, creepy in a _'why the fuck are you standing in my kitchen in what looks like Norse God pajamas at nearly midnight on a Tuesday when I still have nightmares about being thrown out a window'_ kind of way. But menacing? Not so much. (It was probably the pajamas that calmed Tony's fears. Green, of course, with a trim of gold around the simple v-neck collar, but comfy-looking pajamas none-the-less. Non-threatening. Non-pokey.)

Which, of course, made Tony snort in amusement.

Loki's eyes narrowed at the sound, his eyes no longer fixed on the strange white-and-red Midgardian food container, "What amuses you, Man of Iron?"

Tony couldn't help but smirk, motioning at Loki up and down, "Nothing. It's just different to see you in pj's, Rudolph. They look super comfortable. You got a pair in red I could borrow?"

Loki's eyebrows furrowed at Tony's explanation, which just made Tony want to laugh again. Jesus, the god just looked so _young_ when he did that, like he wasn't understanding some joke that everybody else was in on.

So of course, like a typical child, Loki decided anger was the answer to being misunderstood, "Are you referring to my lounging wear, Man of Iron? Would you prefer me in my armor? Perhaps I could dismember you with my bare hands?"

"Um, no, the yoga look is good on you," Tony amended quickly, his eyes skidding down Loki's lean chest (the top hugged him so nicely, especially in the hips _- _**_AND NO UH-UH YOU ARE NOT GOING THERE STARK, NOT EVER-_** and flow-y, loose yoga-y pants looked like liquid pooling to the floor, "Seriously, you got a spare pair? They look like heaven."

Honestly Tony wasn't sure if complimenting a god's pajamas would stop him from being eviscerated via pinkie nail, but it seemed to appease the god if his continued 'I'm-so-adorable-when-I'm-confused-hug-me-please' face was anything to go by.

"Yes, the silk spun in Alfheim is divine," Loki conceded, one of his hands tugging on his other arm's sleeve and breaking eye contact to stare at the floor (which was just _TOO FUCKING ADORABLE AND – STARK_, _seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? Tell your libido Mr. Adorable killed eighty people in two days and see if you can still manage a stiffy!)_

Note to Inner Stark: yup, totally possible, if the heat in his belly was anything to go by.

The sleeves reached his elbows, and when he released the sleeve and lifted one of those long, graceful pale hands to push some silken black hair behind his ear (when in the Frigga-fuck did you become so poetic, Mr. Scientist? It's just a pretty boy god in some fucking green pajamas! Pull yourself together!)

"Alfheim?"

"Yes. Light Elves are capable of spinning silk from the first breath of spring."

"Sounds tough."

Loki shrugged. _Shrugged!_ Fuck this _Lord of the Rings_ shit, "Odin travels throughout the Nine Realms, allowing seasons into being: Alfheim would have no means of export without their support."

Hm. So even magic and fairies and Peter Pans had marketing strategies and economies to worry about.

The microwave dinged.

"So you're telling me your parents _allow_ the seasons to happen? That they wouldn't _exist_ without their permission?"

"Yes."

Tony wanted to spit out all the basic knowledge of seasonal change and Earth weather he'd learned in middle school, how _scientific_ it was, but decided at the last moment to ride this gravy train of a non-threatening (and surprisingly talkative) Loki.

"Well that's…interesting," Tony coughed, pulling his takeout from the microwave and sliding a fork out of the drawer not too far from the god, "that's all very Thumbelina of you guys. I should read up on my Norse mythology."

"Perhaps you should," Loki intoned in that haughty I'm-better-and-sexier-than-you voice, "It would benefit you greatly to know how truly beneath them you are."

"Shut up," Tony mumbled, eyes transfixed still on where Loki had exposed part of his long, slender neck.

Loki made no comment as he slid gracefully onto a barstool at the end of the counter (seriously, Tony knew about the whole shape-shifting thing from Thor, but was he part panther or something? The guy was as sleek and sinewy as a fucking tiger on the prowl…)

…and just as fucking dangerous. Gonna get burned by that heat, Stark.

"Shut up," Tony mumbled again, tired of his inner monologue.

"How does one shut up when one is not talking?" Loki asked in a tone that Tony just knew spelled sassy in Asgardian.

"My tower, Princess. Not yours," Tony shot back, not really thinking.

Tony was paraded to the world as a genius, but honestly, he was an idiot when it came to self-preservation.

But wait, rewind: "..to know how truly beneath them you are."

Beneath _them_. As in, excluding Loki.

"Wait," Tony said through a mouthful of chicken. He swallowed quickly when Loki shot him an annoyed look (either from the Princess comment or the bad manners, Tony wasn't sure), "how beneath _them_? Last time I checked, you were an immortal trickster god. Something change in the Cliffsnotes?"

"I do not know who this Cliff is, but I assure you I am still a god," Loki raised a single eyebrow (a thing that annoyed Tony 'cuz, hey, that was HIS I'm-sexy-and-I-know-it thing), "and no, you foolish creature, we are only indestructable within our realm."

"So you're _not_ immortal when you're on Ear – Midgard?" Tony seriously wished he could order Jarvis to record all this without alerting Loki to what he was up to. Did S.H.I.E.L.D have any idea about something this huge? "Your brother Sunshine failed to mention that at the last company picnic."

"I suppose he wouldn't," Loki said with an airy sigh (was that _boredom?_), "What with it being so obvious."

"…Still not getting it."

"Last we battled," Loki said, his face taking on that darkness Tony remembered right before being hoisted out a window like a ragdoll, "when your…green beast attacked me, did I not bleed?"

"Well, yeah. I don't think anyone's gone up against The Other Guy and not busted a few blood vessels."

"I suppose over enough time, with enough strength, the beast could have ended me. We are not undefeatable, Man of Iron, simply hard to kill."

Tony didn't even blink before blurting, "That why you haven't managed to kill Thor?"

Loki's eyes were deep, and Tony couldn't read much from his expression, but he was still standing (awesome) and breathing (even more awesome) so his comment couldn't have pissed the god off too much.

But then his expression changed to something thoughtful, his eyes falling on the countertop of the bar, his mind whirring and it was actually exciting for Tony to watch before he lifted his eyes and looked at Tony, and it was like **_BANG,_** and Tony was like, _**WHOA TOO INTENSE.**_

And Loki's voice was soft, "So you do not know? I was sure the oaf had…but perhaps not."

There was a beat of silence. Tony chewed some more, swallowed, "Um…know what?"

Loki's eyes narrowed, and Tony was about ready to get into a defensive position, 'cuz hey, honestly, he'd let his guard down enough for one night, and it was instinctual to want to defend yourself against a _nearly immortal_ god –

"Of what I am," Loki finally breathed, the pain evident on his face although his voice was steady, dull, very Slytherin, "A Jotun, a Frost Giant, a beast of Jotunheim. I hold no blood with Thor. I thought this general knowledge."

Tony had heard the whole 'adopted' schtick, but _seriously?_ What the _fuck_ was a Frost Giant?

"But you're brothers. You're a prince of Asgard, right? Even if you're Thor's little brother…"

"The Allfather went to war against my people. I was found as weak babe, taken back to Asgard and raised by Frigga, trained beside Thor. That does not make them blood," Loki hissed, and it was so acidic it made Tony's stomach flip, and not in a good way.

"But he saved you. That counts for something, doesn't it?"

Loki went completely still, and for a second, Tony worried that he'd broken the trickster somehow.

"It matters not. I was a prize of war."

"You were raised in a palace and proclaimed second son of an all-powerful king, god or not. You grew up with Thunderpants. You even STABBED him and he still tried to save you. And he stood at your trial in your defense when you got all crazy with the shiny blue sugar cube. If I had a brother, which let's be honest, the world couldn't handle, I know he'd never put up with as much shit as you've thrown at Thor," Tony took a swig from a nearly-empty cup of bourbon that had been sitting there for…probably forever?

Ugh.

"It matters not!" Loki raged, his voice going so loud it cracked the empty liquor glasses near Loki's hands. Note to self: stop pissing the supernatural entity off, "They hid me from my true nature, denied me my rightful place…"

"No offence, Lokes, but do you _really_ wanna be running around with a bunch of Frost Giants? I've played World of Warcraft, but I think I'd take the palace made of gold and the loud-mouthed big brother anyway."

"Do not mock me, boy," Loki spat, the counter top cracking in crazy, spiral-y patterns (that would've been cool if, you know, it wasn't _**DESTROYING HIS EXPENSIVE-AS-FUCK CUSTOM BAR COUNTER)**_, "I grow weary of your foolish tongue."

"So why are you _here?"_ Tony said, grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels and pouring two tumblers, "Seriously, you're such a BRAT. I didn't drag you to my awesome man cave! You showed up in my space, Loki, not the other way around."

Loki's eyes widened slightly (and yay hoorah the cracks in the counter weren't getting worse) so Tony did what he did best and kept talking.

"Look man, I know you don't like me. Hell, I don't think you like ANY humans, mortals, hammer-wielding big brothers, whatever, but I know what it's like to be alone, and feel unwanted, and be_ bored_ and_ angry,_ so, if you wanna pout and Etch-A-Sketch my marble countertops with magic, go for it, but don't insult me and act like I asked for your company."

And holy shit on a stick, Tony was amazed that A) he was still standing B) still breathing and even C) getting a genuinely surprised expression off of Loki's face instead of being incinerated with icicles or whatever it was that Frost Giants killed with.

He'd expected fire and brimstone and zapping ow-ow-ow but it didn't come, and another minute later, Tony was taking one of his shots and staring at the quiet god, wondering if the silence was an act of petulance or an act of introspection.

He was _so_ gonna Tweet that later:

_**I BUILT A CUSTOM ENGINE FOR THE BESTIE'S B-DAY PRESENT. **_

_**OH, AND YELLED AT A GOD AND GOT AWAY WITH IT. WHAT'D YOU DO TODAY? #superheroSWAG**_

…or maybe not. S.H.I.E.L.D would be all over him, nagging him, dragging him into some underground layer to spit in his face repeatedly and tell him what a naughty boy he was (and if the agents weren't balding and so…agent-y…he might be into that kind of thing) and then he'd have to explain the whole 'oh yeah Loki just popped into my tower for a midnight chat' thing, which would just open a whole other can of worms that Tony was just too tired to deal with.

Speaking of which, that shower was sounding realllllly good, followed by, eh, two days of sleep. Sounded more than good.

But he still had a god sitting in his kitchen who was now running a finger over the deep cracks in his countertop, ice beginning to form wherever his fingers traced and, okay, the scientist in him was interested but the little boy that refused to grow up was practically ooh-ing and ahh-ing.

Loki was actually kind of…amazing…when he wasn't out, you know, destroying American fashion capitols.

Loki lifted his eyes to Tony and Tony tried not to freak out as his eyes had turned a crimson red, blue tendrils seeping around his hairline, brow, and chin as rivulets began to appear down his neck. He closed his eyes again, and when he reopened them, they were that piercing green that Tony couldn't put a name to. The blue was beginning to fade back to that even, pale skin.

"You're right, mortal. I'm bored."

Tony took his other shot before pouring two more.

He shrugged, "Okay."

He placed the other tumbler in front of Loki, just brushing some of the ice slivers. Loki reached out his hand as if to touch the tumbler, but he stopped short, placing his hands back on the countertop, the ice melting into puddles that seeped into the new art-deco cracks of his countertop. (And Tony didn't think about those fingers that were long and perfect and too pretty to kill anything but a piano.)

"Midgardian mead?" he asked.

Tony shrugged again, "I never did give you that drink."

And Tony had been completely unprepared for the smirk that Loki threw him, in combination with those ridiculously dark eyelashes and those insane-colored eyes that held complete cosmic pools of –

_My gawd I am not nearly drunk enough for this. _

"Unfortunately I cannot accept it. Another time, perhaps."

And Tony couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine, especially at the promise of another time.

Which, for some reason, made him think about the god's presence in the first place again…

…and if he hadn't been attacked (yet), and Jarvis hadn't reacted to Loki's presence in the tower (a kink in the pipes that Tony WOULD obsess over for the next week), then maybe, hypothetically, quite possibly…

"This is that magic thing you do, isn't it?" Tony said, fisting one of his shots but not taking a drink from it yet, "One of your clone things?"

Loki's smile was slow and predatory (and sexy. Honestly, what was the point in denying it anymore? The trickster was a slim sexy sinner and had probably charmed the pants off more mortals than even Tony had gotten to in his life, not to mention deflowering _gods_ and probably an alien or two).

"Very good, Anthony. What gave it away?"

And then Tony's brain kind of short-circuited because Loki had _never_ called him that, _ever_, and it shouldn't have been as hot as it was (but it _was_, Sweet Satan's Strap-on, it was).

"Uh…thermal," Tony hit himself in the forehead to get his brain functioning again (much to the amusement of the god), "everything living has a thermal energy. So you're here, but you're _not _here. I dunno how you destroyed my counter and made your ice stuff, and broke my crystal glasses, but you can't pick anything up or move anything. You haven't moved the chair, or the shot, so…that's all I've got for now."

Loki clapped slowly, "Very good, Man of Iron."

"Tony. So the real you is still back in Asgard?"

"Yes. The fools managed to bind my magic to a specific location, but it is impossible for them to bind me in all places."

Even with the alcohol, Tony's mind was trying to keep up with the logic, "So…you can't use magic in Asgard…but the deal is exclusive to Asgard?"

"Very astute. Yes. I am bound within the walls of Asgard, but once again I have been underestimated."

"Extremely underestimated."

Loki grinned again, and Tony was pretty sure he was blushing but he'd never admit it because he was drinking and he always got a bit red-faced when he was drinking…right?

"Spells are indeed very powerful, but extremely specific. I'm slowly working my way through the bindings, the incantations. I've found quite a few loopholes in my father's spells. It seems even he forgets my nature: the blood of a Jotun runs through me, not the blood of an Asgardian."

"So what you're saying is it's only a matter of time before you're running around fully loaded again?"

"In the final binding spell, the Allfather bound me, body and soul, to the realm of Asgard. Other bindings keep me within the walls of the palace, but those are not important at the moment. My blood is Jotun, of ice and snow and darkness, a very different breed of magic. Magic and blood are like the chemical compounds you mortals tinker with: I simply have to find the combination with the words that will allow me my ultimate freedom. It was his oversight, not mine. He cannot bind my Jotun blood if he did not declare it as so."

And then it hit Tony: this was Loki, the Silver Tongue, the Trickster God, the immortal who had probably spent more time in a library growing up then all of Thor's battle hours combined. Of _course_ he would use his brain, his words, his cunning to release himself. S.H.I.E.L.D had been so worried about the Tessaract and Loki's magic that nobody stopped to think that Loki was fucking dangerous all on his own.

The Tessaract had been dangerous, amplifying power, but Loki had gathered an army, Loki had orchestrated careful planning and continued to show his wit (much to the future chagrin of his father, no doubt).

Tony had to admit, he had loved pissing off his old man. Loki was probably going to enjoy it even more than Tony ever had with his.

Seriously. They needed to start a Daddy Issues club. They could make jackets.

"Damn. This is why I stick to science," Tony said, sipping from his tumbler to get away from the headache that was Loki and his Asgardian episode of Prison Break.

He didn't do magic: he didn't put a lot of stock in it (but he couldn't explain half the shit he'd seen Loki do, so he'd have to accept it for now).

"It takes much concentration, much more than I realized, to maintain a projection this far for this amount of time," Loki admitted quietly, "Although I attribute a great deal of my energy being wasted on useless emotion."

"For example, breaking my stuff. Again."

"Apologies," Loki sighed, but he didn't sound like he meant it at all.

"So you figured out these little magic loopholes…and decided to come here. Why?"

Loki shrugged, "Simply a whim, mortal."

"Nuh-uh, I don't buy it."

"You enjoy guessing games."

"I just think you're a shitty liar when you're tired."

Which was true: there were dark circles under the god's eyes, and his skin was even more vampiric than Tony remembered it being all those months ago. It was something Tony had never even thought about, but apparently even gods needed rest.

Loki laughed. It wasn't one of his watch-me-take-over-the-world laughs either.

It was…well, Tony didn't want to admit how much money he'd be willing to pay to hear it again. 'Cuz if that's what the god sounded like when he was (what? Relaxed?) Tony hoped that he could entertain the god enough to hear it again.

"I have a theory," Tony said, setting his drink down.

"By all means, enlighten me, Anthony."

Tony leaned back against his side of the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, running his eyes over Loki's face, using that genius brain to glean everything he knew already and could infer about Loki (after all, they were a lot more alike then either would admit), "You're intelligent, a genius. Geniuses get bored fast. Trust me, I know."

Loki didn't stop him, so he continued.

"We like challenges, puzzles. Distractions. We can't slow down, so must always be doing something or…someone," Tony coughed into his fist while Loki gave him what could only be labeled as a yes-and-go-on stare, "We find something and we pick it apart until we have all the little tiny pieces, then we build it back up again. Until we understand it, until we master it. You weren't on Ear – Midgard that long, Loki. You focused on The Avengers specifically, obviously. You controlled Barton for a while, then tried to play with Natasha. You provoked the Hulk. That leaves Capsicle and me."

"Yes."

"But Captain's too…predictable. Boring. Old-fashioned. What do you care of a soldier that slept in ice for eighty years? You're a thousand years old. And he's a great guy, makes a mean apple pie, but he's a classic little foot soldier, predictable in his bravery and morality…

…which finally leaves me. We got a little screen time together, but I actually challenged you, stood up to you. You hadn't faced that with the others before. And when you tried to control me with your princess fairy wand and it didn't work…well, another challenge," Tony shrugged, "Which you tried to solve by throwing me out a window. MY window."

"Yes."

Tony finally noticed the intense stare Loki was giving him, and it wasn't unlike what Tony was sure he looked when he was focused on a new project.

Like Loki wanted to dissect him piece by piece and put him back together again.

It was both uncomfortable and extremely flattering at the same time.

"So I've got your attention. I'm an equation, a spell you haven't figured out yet. And when geniuses don't understand something, they obsess over it until they do."

Loki breathed in, then out, his eyes fixed on Tony's, that devious smirk back on his face, "Clever little mortal. Very good."

"Do I win a prize?"

The god laughed. It was light, delighted, a child that had just unwrapped a shiny new toy.

"We shall see."

Tony scratched his ear, "But I do have one question."

"Only one?"

He sounded amused. Good.

"You've basically been spilling your guts to me. What makes you think I won't go running to the team, to Thor, and tell them that you're pretty much guaranteed a jailbreak any day now? S.H.I.E.L.D freaks out, calls Thor, Thor goes tearing back up there, your dad gets pissed, and you end up in some Bermuda Triangle Dungeon of Doom or something."

Loki stared at the still full tumbler within his reach, a small smile on his lips, "Because you know what it's like to be bored, Anthony. To want, to crave, a distraction."

Tony watched Loki touch the glass. It froze over, the glass and ice rearranging into shards that fanned out into some kind of mutant lilly, the amber liquid within looking like crystallized pollen, "I cannot deny my nature, just as you cannot deny yours."

"I thought you couldn't touch anything," Tony breathed. Whether to confront Loki or reassure himself, he wasn't certain.

Loki smiled, "I said no such thing. And as you said, it is only a matter of time before I burn through all my little locks. I have a rather –intimate- acquaintance with imprisonment. I am as much a force as I am a god – I cannot be contained, just as you are incapable of being a dull, ordinary man."

Fucking Liesmiths and their fucking monologues.

But Tony was still flattered. Kind of. Sort of…_was_ that some kind of compliment?

And just like that, Loki was gone. No noise, no magical mist, nothing.

Hours later after his shower and a run on Jarvis' mainframe, Tony went back to the kitchen. The ice in the statue had melted, but the paper-thin petals Loki had managed to morph the glass into obviously wasn't going to melt.

Loki had not only touched a solid object with a projection of his clone, he'd mangled it (in a completely girly and attractive way). Order out of chaos, beauty out of destruction.

"So instead of blowing glass, he could've blown your head off," Tony mumbled to himself.

But he had chosen not to, because for some reason, Loki was playing _nice_. For what? Entertainment purposes?

And could Loki just pop in whenever the fuck he felt like it, and Tony couldn't do anything to prevent it?

_Close, you sexy psychopath, but no cigar. _

"Annnnnnnnd gotcha. Jarv?"

"Yes sir."

"Store most recent Team Rocket file in your main audio database: voice recognition marked under Vanilla Ice. If we can't get him through thermonuclear physics, at least we have _some_ kind of trigger system when he's playing house ninja. Oh, and I want alarm set to Ice Ice Baby."

"Of course, sir. Downloading now."

"And download all kitchen camera feeds of the last half hour onto one of my Starkpads. I've got hours of meetings tomorrow and I want something pretty to look at."

Tony smirked to himself: it'd been a really good idea to install the password audio override on JARVIS' recording systems for any bullies, human or otherwise, that decided to come at Tony on his own ball field.

Maybe it didn't make him any safer, but it sure as hell made him feel as if he'd gotten one over on the trickster god.

Tony picked up Loki's little glass creation again, his hands apparently having a mind of their own and wanting to play with the new toy.

He ended up fiddling with it on the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table. He finally put it down on the coffee table, but his eyes kept straying to it.

He _should_ throw it away, or burn it, or something, but he actually liked it.

Too bad Tony didn't smoke: it'd make one kick-ass ash tray.

* * *

**[TBC]**


	2. Chapter 2

**I think I should have named this fic "Tony and Loki Talk A Lot And Eye Rape Each Other." Seriously, I'm a major whore for dialogue between these two. I won't apologize. Although we're starting to get into the M rating and it will build from here on out.**

**Also, I fucked around with a lot of Loki's storytelling, so just go with it for the sake of the fic. I know it's not canon from the comics or the mythology (and why should it be? It's my fanfic! Although I might incorporate a character from the comics that never got mentioned in the Thor movie, but I don't have a heavy plot for this fic anyway, so we'll see how it goes). Loki's hard for me to write because tricksters are so enigmatic, so apologies if I seem to butcher his 'movie' persona, Hiddles is fantastic, so this is not a reflection on him. And I have no intention of redeeming Loki because I feel like he doesn't want redemption; he wants understanding. ("Hi my name's Loki and I'm not evil or devious I'm just misunderstood. I've decided to change my entire personality and become a good guy because I want a healthy family structure and a sexy boyfriend.") Nah, I don't think so. So…Enjoy! -TPP**

* * *

**Brat**

Part 2.

[or How Tony Receives His Prize]

* * *

When Tony wakes up, he's dubious about the whole consciousness thing.

He's pretty sure he's dreaming because, well, he didn't usually wake up with a pale god lounging on his favorite bedroom armchair like it was his fucking supermodel throne, his pointy chin resting on knuckles as he stared at Tony in his bed and yeah this was _so not_ happening because Tony was wearing nothing but _Spiderman_ boxers (a gag gift from Natasha last Christmas) and he could feel his _(perfectly natural)_ morning wood and staring at a half-smirking god was doing him _noooooooo_ favors in that department. Nope.

So, in conclusion, Tony was probably dreaming and should probably be yelling at his subconscious right now because usually his dreams were flashbacks of his torture and kidnapping (okay, nightmares) or they involved super sexy people doing super sexy things, and not that Loki wasn't sexy (Tumblr would have crashed if his image had ever been leaked enough, so thank you, S.H.I.E.L.D) but Tony probably shouldn't be thinking about his teammate's little brother in any kind of capacity other than how much he enjoyed prison cells.

Which for some reason made Tony think about handcuffs, and thinking about the god of mischief with handcuffs, smirking in that _oh-you-know-I'm-delicious_ way, well, Tony really, really hoped his bed covers were hiding his little _(HUGE)_ biology problem.

"Okay I know you're fast, super strong, and incredibly pale, but I'm not an accident-prone teenage girl. You're creeping me out, Edward Cullen."

Loki half-grinned, "The Man of Iron is defensive in his fear-"

Music bopped, giving Loki pause before the lyrics began.

_"Ice Ice, Baby…Ice Ice, Baby…_

_...Stop, collaborate and listen…!"_

Loki looked up at the roof, an annoyed expression on his face. Tony sighed: it should've been funny, but he liked Loki's voice way too much to revel in the fact that audio recognition of Loki obviously wasn't going to be a problem in the future.

Besides, Tony doubted Loki got the irony behind the 90's song. Oh well.

"Jarv, audio off."

_Ice Ice Baby_ disappeared.

Loki now stared at Tony with narrowed and curious eyes, "Your wall slave attempts mockery?"

Oh. Maybe he did get the whole _Ice Ice Giant_ thing. Oops.

Diversion time!

Tony snorted, "He's not a slave, he's a…do you even know what a computer is?"

Loki narrowed his eyes, "Selvig and Barton taught me much about Midgardian technology, but your 'Jarv' is not something I have come across."

"He's special," Tony beamed. This must be what a father felt like with the birth of their firstborn, "He's my greatest invention. And my butler. And my alarm clock. And…you know what? He pretty much runs everything I do."

Loki smirked, "He is your nursemaid all but in name. Fitting, I think, for a man who acts like a child."

"Hey, you're the one who's a thousand years old and still has dick-fighting competitions with his big bro. At least I _admit_ I'm immature," Tony sniffed, ready to get dressed and stumble to the kitchen to scrounge up a decent breakfast.

"Perhaps you should be disciplined like a child as well," Loki said with a smile that was so _dirty_ and _devious_ it would be social suicide to get out of bed now. Good thing his name was Iron Man because his dick felt hard as iron at the thought of Loki spanking him.

Looked like Loki was just destined to push all his unknown kink buttons.

"I know my ass is awesome, but no spanking allowed. My tower, my rules."

Loki stood and made his way to the side of the bed. Tony gulped, not liking the mischevious (he's the god of mischief, isn't his face _always_ mischevious?) look on the tall bastard's face, "I will not punish you now. I believe you deserve a reward for last night for being so clever."

"Oh. Cool."

This wasn't shaping out to be some kind of strange amateur comic book porno, was it?

'Cuz Bruce was still trying to get over what creepy internet fan girls had done to the innocent notion of _Science Bros:_ Tony really didn't need to add Loki to that fan fiction fan base.

Loki waved his hand over the bed and the comforter disappeared.

_"Hooooooooly_ shit," Tony cried, his eyes big as saucers. He backed farther up against the headboard, completely oblivious to his hard-on now 'cuz he had _no_ idea where this reward thing was going and he had an inkling he _really_ wasn't going to like it.

The dick twitching in his boxers thought otherwise, but that wasn't the point.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, personal space and, yeah, I'm gonna need you to magic me that back 'cuz Pepper designed this whole room and the _fengshui_ and all that, so if you could just –"

Then Tony registered the smirk and the twinkling eyes and the no longer empty hands.

Did his eyes deceive him? Because there was _NO FREAKING WAY!_

"Holy crap, you really got them for me?"

Tony stared at the shimmering red material in Loki's fingers that could only be the awesome pajamas he had joked about last night.

"And it's real? But I thought you were a projection, so isn't it…?"

"Objects are much easier to conjure to different realms than living things," Loki said with a professor-like voice, "I guarantee the clothing is very much real. Would you like to try it on?"

"Uh, hell to the _yes_," Tony said, reaching a hand out.

If possible, Loki's smirk grew even bigger.

Uh oh.

"This reward is conditional, Anthony," Loki said silkily, bending to be closer to Tony's face, "You are already in a fair state of undress. Allow me to put it on you."

Tony gave him an _are-you-fucking-kidding-me face_, but it didn't seem to be enough because the god just waited patiently, and Tony's dick was still hammering in his pants, so no, nuh-uh, thank you but goodbye.

Tony stared forlornly at the mega-pimping pajamas, "Um, thanks but no thanks, Lokes. I'm a big boy and can dress myself."

"You do not desire the silk of the light elves? It is a rare commodity," Loki said, and Tony _knew_ he was sounding surprised on purpose, "You would be the only mortal in the universe to claim such a prize. I do not even know how pleasurable the textile would be to your human flesh as it has never been gifted to a mortal."

Tony gulped.

Loki shrugged a shoulder, "…but if you say you do not want it…"

"Fine!" Tony barked, cursing Loki thirty ways to Sunday for his choice of words.

That's what made Loki so good at his job: he knew _exactly_ what to say. He _knew_ Tony wouldn't be able to resist the thought of being able to have access to something that nobody else did (being a billionaire, those things were rare and few and far between) not to mention Alfheim silk had never been worn by a mortal.

So…science. Yeah, this was a science experiment. He loved science.

Apparently his dick loved it too.

"Fine!"

"Excellent," Loki said, placing the garments on the corner of the bed. It looked like a shimmering puddle of awesomeness that Tony wanted on him that second, "Perhaps you should stand, Anthony."

"Oh, sure."

Tony climbed out of the bed, and in doing so, became painfully aware that his morning glory hadn't faded in the slightest.

_**FUCK IT. I'M TONY HIDE-YOUR-MOTHERS-AND-DAUGHTERS-AND-ATTRACTIVE-BIG -BROTHERS STARK! I AM SEXY, RIDICULOUSLY SEXY, AND I WILL NOT BE ASHAMED OF AN ERECTION! A NORSE GOD WANTS TO PUT PAJAMAS ON ME, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!**_

If only he could Tweet how interesting his life had become in the past twenty-four hours. Pepper would have a coronary along with his marching band of public image idiots and Fury would probably be ready to rip out his one remaining eye out of frustration for Tony's theatrics.

"Sucks for you. I usually sleep naked," Tony quipped. Anything to stop feeling vulnerable.

"A tragedy," Loki drawled, picking up the tunic-like top of the pajamas and sliding it over Tony without having to tell Tony to lift up his arms.

"Oh my…_wow,"_ Tony said, feeling the material against his skin for the first time. It was extremely cool and so soft Tony started stroking his hands over his chest to make sure the material was really there. It was so light he'd swear he was still shirtless. He stared down at his arc reactor, the blue light shimmering against the red silk and highlighting the stitching of gold around the collar.

Actually, there was a lot of gold in the tunic. A lot.

"Is this real gold?"

"Yes."

"Holy shit."

"Do you not like it?"

"Like it? I freaking love it. Pants now? Please?"

Loki smiled at him and Tony tried to remind himself that this was still Loki and Loki was crazy.

And apparently really, really nice when he was bored.

So. Anyway. Pants.

"Um…how…"

And Tony's brain broke, literally broke, as Loki slithered to his knees before looking up at Tony with a commanding expression, "Raise one of your legs, Stark, and this may be completed in a timely fashion."

"Uh…yeah." Tony finally lifted one of his legs and Loki slipped his foot through one pant leg. Then the other leg was lifted, the process repeated.

Then Tony almost died (or was about to cum in his _Spiderman_ boxers and elf jammies) as Loki's hands slowly moved the waistband up his legs, his hands moving around to his hips as he pulled them up fully, clasping a single gold button right over his obvious erection.

Thankfully he said nothing, his eyes trained on Tony's (which, of course, made it that much hotter…)

They fit perfectly. _Too_ perfectly. Like a glove for his ass. His ass had never felt so…grabbed.

But the material was _so_ heavenly Tony let out a sigh of pleasure.

"Damn, elves are amazing," he said, falling back into his bed and moving his arms and legs like he was making a snow angel, "fan-freaking-tastic. Best. Present. _Ever._ Mm-hm. Oh yeah. I think I'm in love."

"My gift was well-received?"

"Better than sex," Tony said, closing his eyes as he reveled in the comfortableness of his new favorite outfit. Seriously, if he could get away with it, he'd never take it off again.

Loki chuckled, "Such a strange creature you are, Anthony Stark. The pleasures of mortal flesh seem few."

Tony continued to keep his eyes closed, too comfortable to open them as he yawned, his words slurred, "Mm, your voice is like sex too."

Tony had an internal freak-out moment, but his body was so heavy and warm and just _awesome_ that he was beginning to wonder if elves could lace their silk with some kind of alien narcotic.

"You find my voice pleasant, mortal?"

His voice was teasing, flirty. Holy shit, was Loki flirting? Tony had always thought Loki, being a liesmith, could charm his way out of anything, but to actually hear an air of flirtation from the villain…

It was making Tony's body tingle, especially his stomach and groin.

"Yeah…like melting chocolate…and mint…a sexy licorice burrito," Tony babbled. Seriously, what the _fuck_ was happening to him right now? Was it because he was a mortal? Or had Loki enchanted the clothing somehow?

Tony felt the bed shift next to him.

Then he felt a hand on his chest, just light fingers stroking back and forth over the edge of his collar, then down his (impressive) chest and abs.

He didn't seem at all interested in the arc reactor.

Which was strange, 'cuz Tony would've bet on Loki ripping the thing from his chest and laughing maniacally at the destruction of the Iron Man via silk pajamas.

_Maybe he'd take the Hulk down with fuzzy bunny slippers..._

Loki's fingers skimmed over his stomach. His bellybutton.

Tony breathed in sharply, his eyes snapping open at the sudden wave of arousal. The material was making his skin so damn sensitive he could feel pre-cum in his boxers already.

"Oh my god," he breathed out.

"Yes, mortal?" Loki's voice was teasing, but the touches were still just slight petting motions. Tony wasn't sure if he was playing dumb or if he really was naïve to how aroused Tony was at the moment, "Perhaps wearing these you will cease to have nightmares."

Tony's eyes tried to focus on Loki but Loki's hands had strayed to his hair, an incredible weak point for the genius, "W-what nightmares? I don't…don't have nightmares…"

"I watched you sleep for a time, Stark. I know nightmares."

Tony wanted to ask what he meant, but his eyes had closed again and he couldn't for the life of him figure out how to gather all his scattered thoughts again, "Loke…"

"Sleep, Tony."

It was a command.

And for once, Tony Stark obeyed one.

* * *

When Tony woke up again, the room was empty.

For some reason, this bothered him.

He sat up, still enjoying the feel of his new pajamas, "Jarv, what time is it?"

"2:48 p.m."

"Shit," Tony groaned, falling back into his pillows.

Not only did he have a board meeting in twelve minutes, he'd gone (five hours?) unconscious with a homicidal god in the room.

Or wherever he had wandered off to, but seriously, what had that been about? He felt extremely rested, though, and his body still felt sluggish, but he must've acclimated to the original euphoria of the alien fashion.

"Um, Jarv, call Pepper. Tell her…tell her I'm sick. Me being there is just a formality at this point anyway."

"Calling Ms. Potts, sir."

There was a moment of ringing, and then, "Tony, you'd better scrape yourself out of whatever gutter you fell into last night and get your ass in a car."

"But Pep, I feel like shit," Tony whined and groaned, "I think it was the leftover Chinese."

Tony could hear the eye roll, "I told you to stay away from the mandarin pork."

"C'mon, Pep, you don't even need me there."

"It's the principle of the thing, Tony! This is still your company and you should be involved in head corporate meetings!"

"Let's be honest, Pep, you run all that boring stuff I can't stand. That's what I promoted you for-"

"A consolation prize for breaking up with me."

"Hey, that was mutual, sweetheart."

"I know," Pepper sighed, "I don't know what I was thinking. How have you been lately? Haven't seen you since you spilled your scotch on one of Hammer's branch managers at the New Year's Gala."

"It was a _total_ accident."

"But really, Tony. How are you? I might not know everything these days, but The Avengers seem busy. Are you resting enough? I might not be your babysitter anymore, but I still worry about you."

"Actually, I think I have the sleep thing figured out," Tony said, running his hands over the Alfheim silk on his chest, "and yeah, Avengers stuff is cool and all, but they can't stop me from developing bigger and better technology, Pep, no worries. Stark Industries isn't going anywhere because I decided to play hooky."

"You know the only reason I'm not going to push it is because you're…dare I say it, growing up? The responsibility of the Avengers has focused you, I think."

"Sure. It's a nice club. A decent lounge and fun t-shirts…"

"Alright, smart ass, I have a meeting to run. We should have dinner sometime soon."

"Yeah, sounds good."

"Love you, Tony."

"Love you too."

The link disconnected and Tony settled back into bed. He really didn't feel the need to get up, although he could probably attribute it to the fucking pajamas.

Or maybe to the fact that his body really hadn't had any decent amount of rest in weeks, and his god-given nap had replenished him and he was groggy from that much-needed rest.

Whatever. His bed was comfy, his projects weren't pressingly important, and the Tower was quiet. Clint and Natasha were off on some super secret mission somewhere in South America, Bruce was on a week-long stint in Tibet for personal zen reasons, the Capsicle had gotten a little nook apartment in Brooklyn, and Thor was off in the galaxy somewhere, probably playing ping pong in Asgard (Mjolnir was the paddle and enemy's heads were the balls). So if Bruce and Clint were gone, the tower was pretty much empty.

Which was good, considering his most recent guest.

Which had disappeared.

Anyways, enough thinking about loneliness and Loki.

So he napped. Again.

And when he woke up, he was _starving_.

"Ugh," Tony slipped out of the soft top before he went absolutely insane but couldn't bring himself to take off the pants. He was focused enough now to climb out of bed and make his way to the kitchen.

He pulled out a skillet, some bread and cheese, and decided to go old school with one of his childhood favorites.

Soon he had some sizzling grilled cheese going as he whistled some _Black Sabbath,_ grooving and nodding to his bachelorhood when he was nearly ripped out of his own skin by Loki's voice.

"What in the Nine are you cooking, mortal?"

"Jesus, Loki!" Tony breathed, lowering his formidable spatula, "I'm not supposed to have a heart attack until _after_ I eat this, you fucking ninja freak!"

"You are distressed."

Tony rolled his eyes, "Brilliant, Snowflake! You sure you're not the God of Obvious?"

"Do you not like the tunic I got for you?" Loki said, his eyes running down Tony's torso and _oh wow,_ Tony's brain was idling…

…because he completely forgot why he was mad.

"No, I love it, it's just…I kept falling asleep, so I thought maybe I had to, you know, wean myself into the whole thing. So far so good," Tony said with a shrug, "Too much sleep might mess up my mind mojo –"

"You slept well."

"Yeah, but why'd you leave?"

Tony could've kicked himself.

Loki looked a bit suspicious, "You wished for me to stay?"

"Well, uh, no, 'cuz watching people while they sleep is creepy, but you didn't have to leave. Like you could've…I dunno, I guess I'm trying to say you don't have to flee the building. But that's stupid because you're not physically here anyway, so never mind."

Tony finally ended his babble and turned back to his grilled cheese before clearing his throat and trying not to blush a thousand shades of red.

"While you rested, I gained rest myself. It is counterproductive to expend mental energy on a projection while you are unconscious."

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense."

"I slept well myself. I have replenished my energy. I'm much more focused this evening then the previous."

"Oh. Good."

And the look Loki gave Tony could only be described as hungry and primal and Tony didn't know how long the eye-fucking went on for but it was long enough to burn the shit out of his cheesy masterpiece and make him cuss as he tried to salvage it.

The bread was pitch black.

"Damn."

"It smells horrendous. I assume you have ruined the meal?"

"Yeah. This is a bust," Tony sighed, rubbing his forehead, "Whatever. I'll order out. I'm rich: I can do what I want."

And then he had a thought.

"So you're stronger with your projections, right?"

"Yes."

"And you can touch stuff, bend stuff. Could you eat and taste?"

Tony's science brain was curious.

Loki's eyebrows dipped together in thought, "I do not know. Shall we test it?"

Tony's grin put the sun to shame, "You ever tried shawarma?"

* * *

Tony had just slid another drink to Loki across the bar counter: he'd managed to convince the god to try several different liquors. So far his favorite was vodka.

Straight up. No lime. The Russian in Natasha would be proud.

The shawarma was completely gone. Tony had ordered several entrees of it and had it delivered to the tower. Tony was totally stuffed on the Middle Eastern dish. Loki had taken a few bites to appease Tony, but it seemed he was not a fan of meat, Midgardian or otherwise. He did, however, eat the pita-like bread between mixed drinks Tony kept sliding him.

"Odin was furious," Loki continued, a smirk on his face, "so, of course, Thor blamed me, even though we had devised to steal the Priestess' necklace together. So I took the hidden jewels back to her."

Tony's eyebrows hit his hairline, "And you're still _breathing? _I thought you said she was a guardian of Hel?"

Loki smirked deviously at Tony, "Oh, she was, but my honesty must have rattled her. Instead of punishing me, she offered me safe passage into her realm for one time in the future. A good thing, as I called on that favor when one of mother's favorite handmaidens died prematurely."

"Wait," Tony held up a hand after a shot of whiskey, "so you just walked into Hel and retrieved a soul?"

Loki stared back at Tony, "No, it is not just walking. It is extremely dangerous, and even in her promise, she could not protect me from others in the realm. But that handmaiden was most beloved by Frigga, and I wished to see her suffering end. Being highly gifted in magic, I knew I had the greatest chance of survival."

Whoa. Loki doing something selfless? There was no fucking way.

"Did you have a thing for this handmaiden too? Was she super hot? Did you tumble her in the golden Asgardian barn or something?"

Loki's face became cool, indifferent, "No. She was beautiful, very much so, but I did not harbor the inclination. So naturally Thor slept with her many a time."

"Yet you're the one who went to rescue her? Had no idea Thor was such a douche bag."

Loki shrugged, "What is done is done. She was returned to Asgard, my mother's sorrow was lifted, and the people showed favor with me. For a time, anyway. Then Thor returned from one of many battles against Svartalfheim."

The words were almost bitter, but Tony could hear what Loki wasn't saying:

_I did something good, something selfless, but big brother will always outshine me, so what's the point in being good?_

Tony didn't have any siblings, but he could understand the frustration of never being able to impress a father. Loki was a god of mischief: it was his duty to create chaos.

Tony had done it just to piss his old man off.

"Svartalfheim. That's a mouthful. What do you fight there? Dragons?" Tony said, hoping to pull Loki from his darker thoughts.

"Dark elves. A very fearsome, war-hungry society well versed in sorcery. For nearly a century I tried to create an alliance between Svartalfheim and Jotenheim, but they were stubborn, plebian, killing each other just as readily as killing the Asgardians. Jotuns did not trust me for my upbringing, although the dark elves held much respect for my powers."

"One of Thor's underlings, Sif, was smarter than her warrior class dictated. She realized what I was doing during one of our Svartalfheim campaigns. Odin had ordered me to battle after a massacre; Thor treated me as his right hand. I killed many dark elves, but when they saw my skill in sorcery, they avoided me. Magic is extremely sacred to them. I infiltrated one of their camps and revealed my Jotun form to one of the generals. He was eager to overthrow Thor, and I wanted nothing more than to have Thor return to Asgard like a beaten pup with tail between legs. The next battle was fierce, but the general was captured. I cast a spell that made him slit his own throat before he could reveal who had given him clever strategy. This made Sif suspicious, as dark elves do not believe in surrender or suicide. And she has never, ever liked me.

Then Sif went to Thor with her suspicions, that I was hindering more than helping. He became observant, the oaf, and saw how the dark elves fled or avoided fighting me at all cost during battles. I tried to overthrow his doubts by striking entire villages down with fire, but the doubts began to grow amongst the other warriors.

He ordered me to return to Asgard. I refused. Odin may have made him general, but I would not bow to the whims of a stubborn golden fool. If I could not create an allegiance between the dark elves and the Jotuns, I wanted to have the two races destroy each other, rendering Thor's army useless."

"You were gonna take the glory of battle away from Thor," Tony observed, reading right into that trickster brain, "your mischief had backfired, so what better way to humiliate your brother than to take away the one thing he was good at?"

Loki picked up the nearly-finished vodka bottle, chugging it to completion before continuing, "Very good, Anthony."

There was silence then, but Tony had to ask, "So how does the story end?"

Loki lifted his eyes, the blackness of those lashes making the green of his eyes look almost radioactive, "I teleported to Jotun. I killed many – the life force of a Jotun is potent magic – but under the guise of a night elf. Ocular manipulation is simple – Jotuns and dark elves both have blood red eyes - and I returned to fight at Thor's side. It took only days for the Jotuns to arrive, decimating the dark elf armies and we, in turn, attacked the Jotuns.

Thor lost many that day. Some Jotuns managed to flee, but the Asgardian army had been torn to shreds. Thor had never lost so many in battle before, and Odin was not pleased.

"It was…a hollow victory," Loki murmured, "No one knew of my deception. The smell of funeral pyres permeated the air for months. Thor did nothing but drink. And I…I could not revel in it. I had decimated three powerful armies, brought them all to their knees, and yet I felt nothing.

Sif continued to draw others against me: I could not hope for her to figure out everything, but she knew enough. She knew my ways enough that everyone started whispering me a traitor.

Eventually a new war began against _Nedavellir,_ the realm of the dwarves. I chose not to fight. Thor returned, victorious, pigheaded and full of bravado, and the people loved him and Odin – oh Odin showered him in gifts and declarations. That was when I knew he would be crowned; that's when I knew I would never sit on a thrown of Asgard.

Of course Thor reassured me that I would be his right hand, but he didn't understand. He didn't understand how people would spit my name while praising his."

Loki chuckled then, a broken thing, and Tony watched as his skin turned a beautiful blue, lined runes appearing on his face, "A weakling Jotun, sitting on the throne of the gods? I thought I was destined for glorious things, but that was reaching too far.

I know that now. This form, who I am, Asgardian or Jotun or thief or murderer, it means very little. Thor will be king, and I will be hated. I've tried to kill him, and I cannot. And he will not kill me, so I think my true destiny is to perform this silly dance for the fates for all eternity, until Ragnarok come."

Tony understood pity parties, he really did. Hell, he'd invented them, but hearing all this from Loki was really doing a number on him.

Loki sounded like…he'd given up.

Like he couldn't muster the energy to try and take over the world again. And wasn't _that_ just fucked up? For Tony to be disappointed in that notion?

This centuries' old being calling it quits?

Tony's hand shot out and covered one of Loki's blue hands. Loki looked startled, but didn't pull away. It didn't matter, anyway, as it wasn't really him. Tony was surprised the skin that was so much like ice was room temperature.

"I changed, Loki. Fuck, I used to build weapons designed to decimate entire cities, killing thousands. Governments, terrorist cells, absolute evil. And I didn't care. I didn't give a shit as long as I got paid and people knew my name. They called me _The Merchant of Death,_ and I didn't give a fuck. I drank and fucked a different person every night, and it didn't mean anything.

"Then I got this put in me," Tony said, tapping at his arc reactor with his free hand, "I went through hell, and I hated the world. But I'm a different man, now. I'm still a sarcastic bastard with little morals, but I fucking changed.

"And I think what you just told me, well, I'd give you a second chance, so, don't think you're alone, okay?"

And Tony squeezed his hand harder and Loki just stared at him before Tony smiled, "And this is coming from a guy you through out his own window."

"Are you saying you forgive my actions?" Loki asked, sounding suspicious, and that just broke Tony's heart.

Man, this guy had never caught a break in his life, it seemed. Like a stray dog that was so used to being kicked he'd growl at the man that tried to feed him.

"Look, I'm not saying what you did wasn't fucked up because it was. A lot of people suffered, and you hurt people I care about, like Clint. The whole mind thing really fucked him up, but he's alive, and that's something. And I definitely don't think you won't cause some form of chaos here and there, but you're definitely not the murder-bound diva I remember with the tessaract."

"The tessaract amplified emotions; my hatred and bitterness was all-consuming. I know that now. Now I'm just…tired, Stark."

And Tony believed him. Loki just looked so _lost_, and it was fucked up because Tony knew how strong the god was, how powerful he was in his own way.

God or not, he was a man lost in his own darkness. He didn't want to be in the light, but he didn't want to be alone.

Nobody did. And if they said they did, they were fucking liars who lied.

"Well, you got me, Snowflake. Let's start there for now. One day at a time."

Tony patted the hand and took a step back, hands in his pockets as he cleared his throat. Yeah, where had all the testosterone gone? Things got way too angsty way too fast (could Tony blame the affects of alcohol on a not-really-there Loki?)

"Are you proposing friendship, Anthony?"

"Why the fuck not? I'm a risk-taker. I try to do at least three dangerous things a day: a friendship with a hot god of mischief seems like something to knock off the bucket list. And you can turn blue. That's pretty cool."

"You are lucky I am only a projection, Tony. In Jotun form, I am far too cold for a mortal. You would have died."

"Hey, three dangerous things a day, remember? Honestly, with how I'm living life these days, dying via sexy ice sculpture sounds like a decent way to go."

"Are you attempting to woo me, Tony?"

"Hm, what?" Tony's eyes got wide as he saw the predatory look come over Loki's face. The blue bled away and his eyes returned to that goddamned gorgeous green.

"Your tongue grows loose with drink. That is the second time you have mentioned my attractiveness."

Panicking, Tony blurted out, "I don't fuck my friends. It's a personality glitch. I can't…I mean, people already think me and Bruce-"

_WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING WITH THIS? SHUT. UP._

Loki stood and came around the bar counter, corralling Tony into the corner of the immaculate kitchenette, his ass bumping against wooden cabinets, Loki's eyes trained on him.

"I would very much like to be friends, Anthony," he said silkily, pushing a strand of hair behind Tony's ear. It'd gotten shaggy over the past few months. Everybody kept telling him to cut it, but he was convinced he was devilishly sexy no matter what, "however, I highly doubt you wish to keep our _-strange-_ relationship at such an…inarticulate level."

Tony gulped, "Nope, totally cool with the _just friends_. We could make bracelets and everything."

Loki offered a closed mouth smile, leaning into Tony's ear. It was strange not to feel any breath, "You would not be the first mortal to respond physically to me, Anthony. However, you are the only one to have ever enticed me mentally."

Tony's brain clicked, "I turn you on?"

"Very much so. Your intelligence, your stubbornness, your humor. It's all rather…exciting. Perhaps one reason I chose to throw you out a window."

And yeah, Tony was trying not to let the pretty words get to his dick, but…yeah, he was definitely getting turned on.

By a magically conjured puppet, no less.

(Was he even technically a clone? Tony would have to ask when blood returned to his brain. As it was, all the blood was currently heading south to downtown fuck-around town.)

"So what? You throw people through windows when you can't handle sexual tension?"

"It was tense that day, was it not?"

Tony flashed back to that day where he'd been bluffing in front of the god, where Loki had tried to _Matrix_ him with the Glow Stick of Destiny.

Well okay, yeah, you'd have to be deaf, blind, and stupid not to think Loki was sexy, even when he was failing at the whole taking-over-the-world thing.

And knowing he had the strength to throw him through a goddamn window shouldn't have been as hot as Tony had found himself thinking a few days after the incident, despite the nightmares.

And when they'd returned to the tower to see Loki getting up from the rock bed the Hulk had made for him, a bit of blood on his face and his eyes tired, he'd still looked effortlessly sexy.

So yeah, if Loki had been like Thor, an Avenger instead of trying to blow up New York with aliens, maybe they would've been in each other's pants months ago.

"I'm not asking you to be one of the good guys, but you can't be one of the bad guys either," Tony heard himself say, "and if S.H.I.E.L.D finds out I'm even talking to your _PROJECTION_ I'll probably be shipped off to a third world country, not to mention Barton shooting an arrow through my forehead."

"For someone who seeks thrills and adventure, you focus very much on the realm of infinite possibility," Loki said teasingly, handing Tony his drink, "perhaps becoming one of Midgard's mightiest heroes has tamed your free nature."

"Baby, there's nothing about me that's tame," Tony growled, immediately defensive.

Tony was an annoying bastard, but he was everybody's favorite annoying bastard. He had a big mouth and the genius to back it up.

"Endearments already, Anthony? I assure you, I have not been a babe for many centuries."

"Har har har, you're a comedian."

Loki shrugged, "I suppose it is part of my job description. Mischief in itself is not evil."

"I'll be sure to tell people that when they find out we're pen pals."

Loki's smile made Tony's knees nearly buckle. Good thing he was still being supported by the counter, "I rather like the idea of you being a secret. Secrets are special, coveted things."

And before Tony could react to that statement, Loki disappeared.

For once, Tony didn't want to think, but the thought was there anyway.

_Did I just give a (sexy) psychotic sorcerer the green light?_

"Fuck."

* * *

**_A/N: Fuck indeed, Tony. Fuck indeed. Now KNEEL! (;_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to everyone who has been reading, favoriting, and reviewing. I really love writing this story. It feels too easy. -TPP**

* * *

**Brat**

Part 3.

[Or When Tony Decided He Was Royally Fucked]

* * *

Despite how much he had slept the previous night and day, Tony once again had a great night of rest. Now, super refreshed and absolutely bouncing with energy, he'd decided to tackle a few heavier projects he'd been working on in his lab. His encrypted blueprints were currently in holographic format. He spun one of the new exoskeleton prototypes for a stealth suit like it was a carousel. It was a new angle he'd never considered before, and he was so tired of Clint and Natasha always being the invisible ninja dudes. He wanted to prove he could do heavy stealth too for situations that called for him not to be so flashy, but he wasn't going to do it without style.

"Eat your heart out, Snake Eyes," Tony grinned, imagining one of his favorite G.I. Joe heroes as a kid giving him a silent nod in acknowledgment of his intellectual prowess.

The initial blueprint was so far outside his usual comfort zone when it came to his suits that he was beyond excited to begin Frankenstein-ing it. Composed entirely of advanced composite ceramics (and experimental bio-neural gel-pack circuitry) it was shaping out to not only be a heavy project, but an enlightening one. He was thinking so far outside the box for this project he was beginning to doubt his own genius design.

"…fuse it with a Kevlar-like polymer, back it with some optical fiber networks…should make it invisible to electronic detection systems," Tony mumbled to himself as he altered one of the arm braces.

And, if all went well, it'd be pretty much invisible to the naked eye when at full power.

And the extra elbowroom was definitely a bonus.

He had sensitive elbows. No, seriously.

He zipped onto one of his favorite roll-y chairs, hitting up a clear dry-erase board to circle a complicated theorem he'd been working out for the past two hours. He could never focus on one project at a time: it just wasn't in his nature, but the circuitry for this suit was not only complex but pretty much pioneering territory for the genius. He'd called Bruce for a professional Science Bro opinion, but had been bumped straight to voice mail.

Goddamn humanitarians and their stupid bleeding hearts.

"Could really use that absolutely _gigantic_ organ in your noggin right about now, buddy. You know, I dunno if you've thought about this, but orphans aren't going anywhere. They'll still be all over the world tomorrow, big guy," Starrk said sassily, not really meaning the words and just knowing Bruce would have a good eye roll when he bothered to listen to it (besides he himself was an orphan and he found orphan jokes hilarious), "but if you really wanna help them out, hit up the Nike factories while you're sightseeing. See ya in a few more days. Bring me back a monk robe or something."

Soon as the call was disconnected, Tony set his safety glasses over his eyes and snapped his fingers, "Shuffle, Jarvis. Party time."

"As you wish," the AI said, and if Tony could've programmed the AI to roll his eyes, that's exactly what he'd be doing at that moment.

Tony turned on his soldering iron, getting straight to work on the second retractable arm guard (he always prototyped at least half a dozen) when a rap track busted in heavy, the bass rumbling the bulletproof and soundproof double-paned glass of his lab.

_"Money's the motivation, money's the conversation,_

_You on vacation, We getting paid so_

_We on paycation, I did it for the fam_

_It's whatever we had to do, it's just who I am…"_

Tony hummed along, instantly recognizing the song that had become his anthem soon as he started blowing shit up in the name of the Avengers.

_"…I never feared death or dying_

_I only fear never trying_

_I am whatever I am_

_Only God can judge me, now I'm_

_One shot, everything rides on tonight_

_Even if I've got three strikes_

_I'mma go for it_

_This moment, we own it_

_And I'm not to be played with_

_Because it can get dangerous_

_See these people I ride with_

_This moment, we own it…"_

It was about an hour later that Tony set the soldering gun down and wiped his forehead, staring down at his tiny little creation that would (hopefully) pave the way to one fucking fantastically useful suit when he noticed Loki sitting on one of his roll-y chairs.

Naked.

Fucking _naked_.

His arms were crossed over his creamy chest, his hair slicked back off his forehead, but it was wavy.

Because it was _wet_.

Actually, water droplets coated him, and it took Tony at least sixty seconds to realize he was staring at the god's more than sufficient dick.

"Hello, Anthony."

"Jarv, audio off," Tony breathed, closing his eyes and shaking his head for a second before putting a hand over his eyes, "Uh, is there any particular reason you're in your birthday suit right now?"

"I'm naked, Tony. I do not require a suit when I bathe."

Tony snorted, dropped his hand, and managed to just look in Loki's eyes _(GODDAMN JUST KEEP EYE CONTACT, WHATEVER YOU DO, **DO NOT. LOOK. DOWN!**)_, "So your projections take baths now?"

Loki shrugged, "I wished to bathe, but I also wished to be in your company. Apparently this is the compromise in my magic. I must be in a state of meditation to have completely unguarded access to your realm."

"You can't…you know, focus your energy a little more? How about a towel? I can work with a towel."

Loki cocked his head to the side, his eyes boring into Tony and Tony gulped (because when Loki cocked his head it was just so goddamn hot) and Tony didn't trust that sneaky little smile slithering onto his thin lips, "God or no, we are both male. Nudity should not be an issue."

"Hey, if I wanna be naked in my own house, I'll be naked in my own house, but you don't see me coming to your palace naked as the day I was born and expect to chit-chat."

"No, I suppose not. Besides it would be impossible for you to reach Asgard without Thor or I."

Tony groaned, "You're deliberately being a pain in the ass. I'm trying to make a point here."

Loki smirked, his arms going to the armrests and exposing more of that lithe, marble-smooth chest, "Does it truly displease you?"

FUCK NO. Nobody in their right mind would say no to a naked Loki.

But Tony needed to save face, "Dude, we became friends, like, yesterday. You gotta earn the right to be naked in front of me."

"Of course, Anthony, but you are forgetting something rather important."

Tony sighed and leaned back against his worktable, arms crossed over his chest, "And what's that, Snow White?"

The grin was absolutely maddening with those white teeth, "I do what I want."

Tony couldn't help himself, he smiled back, and then they were both laughing, and it shouldn't have felt natural (not at all, not with the whole bare-ass-naked thing) but it somehow was, and suddenly Tony wasn't so uncomfortable anymore.

"But seriously, what is this? Did you really miss me that much that you couldn't wait until after bath time to see me?"

"Are you surprised or flattered?"

Tony shrugged.

Then realized his eyes were doing loopy-loops over the god's shoulders, his pecs…

"You know, the crazy leather armor you wear hides a lot of good things."

Loki chuckled, "Make up your mind, Anthony."

"Hm?"

"Your pupils are dilated. And you're staring at my cock. That tends to be a sign of sexual interest."

Tony snapped his eyes up, "Well if you weren't sitting there all hey-look-at-my-Asgardian-anaconda, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Tony knew his face had been flushed for several minutes, but now he felt like a freaking teenage girl. Sure, he'd fooled around with guys before (it'd been a while, but variety was the spice of life in Tony's world).

And Tony was finding himself thinking he wouldn't mind breaking his jaw on Loki's dick.

And that, ladies and gentleman, was what was making Tony ready to run from the room like it was on fire.

Because he wasn't even supposed to be _talking_ to Loki, much less thinking about sucking his immortal cock.

"Besides, you're not even _really_ here. You're realms away, having royal bath time, teasing the mortal because you're a god and you're bored. Well, sorry, I don't wanna play your little brain games, okay?"

Loki smiled, "Tony, I cannot help but tease you. It is in my nature; I can't help myself. I enjoy seeing you so…passionate."

Tony stared at Loki, not sure if he'd won the argument or if Loki had just mind-fucked him.

"Another time, then."

And Loki was gone.

* * *

If Loki's goal was to drive Tony absolutely insane, he was doing a damn good job of it.

Because all Tony could think about for the rest of the week was a naked Loki.

He tried to throw himself into a dozen different projects. Hell, he even went to a _meeting_ to find distraction (Pepper was pleasantly surprised, patting him on the shoulder and telling him how she didn't know how to react to this more grown-up Tony).

Yeah. That's why he had Jarvis purge all lab video from that fateful morning (he'd triple-encrypted Jarvis the second he'd suspected S.H.I.E.L.D of digging around in his stuff months ago, so it wasn't really an issue) but it did make Tony feel better.

That is, if he hadn't had the file leaked onto his personal favorite Stark pad, that is.

It was the only file in existence. He didn't even encrypt it. He'd simply titled it **MORE PORN.**

'Cuz if anybody _did_ unlock his shit, it was the most unsuspicious and totally Tony Stark thing to find. Being in painfully obvious plain sight was one of the easiest ways to hide something.

Unfortunately, boners seemed to be the only exception to that rule.

"Oh come on," Tony begged, staring down at his thousand dollar suit pants, "I really, really don't have time for this, big man."

And seriously, he didn't, because he had two minutes to stage time.

A little annoying mousy girl with a headset and a bad haircut had just Hitler-whispered it to him, so he was at least paying some amount of attention to his surroundings.

And then the two minutes were up, and the show host was announcing him as Tony Stark, The Billionaire Super Hero, and Tony had to smile and wave and pretend to catch kisses, and it was all…

So. Fucking. Boring. So expected it was making him chafe.

And Tony had to mentally shake himself at least three or four times before realizing he'd missed another prompted question, and he wouldn't blame the audience and everybody else watching (what was he on? Ellen? The Late Night Show? Who's Line Is It Anyway?) for thinking he might be a little slow today due to a hangover or some other nefarious thing his haters came up with on their pathetic blogs (and no Tony so did not read those. Definitely not.)

But he _was_ thankful that he'd had the foresight to come out like his usual bad ass self in some twenty thousand dollar shades, keeping people from noticing eye rolls and the occasional fight to stay awake.

Seriously. When did being the center of attention become boring?

When was the commercial break?

Why had he been roped into this interview in the first place? 'Cuz so far, the questions didn't have anything to do with Stark Industries or The Avengers in general.

The questions were much more personalized.

"So, Tony, now that you're a team player, do you see your bachelorhood ending anytime soon?"

"Depends on your definition of soon," Tony replied, earning a smattering of laughs, "and whoever said I was a team player?"

"Well you're an Avenger, aren't you?" the host said with a playful air. This was the part where they were supposed to engage in easy, light banter to keep people laughing and the ratings up.

But it was boring, because Tony wasn't talking about his technology babies or how the Avengers stopped a volcano from destroying a city.

It wasn't about his passions: it was about his pin-up playboy lifestyle.

Nothing new. Boring boring boring.

So Tony smiled, "Sure, being a super hero is awesome, but it doesn't give you much time for dating."

The host laughed, "Who needs time when you're the Iron Man? I'm sure there are more than a few women willing to take a last name like Stark."

And Tony wanted to choke himself when the first face to pop up in his head wasn't even female.

"Don't be fooled: most of them are gold diggers and cougars."

More laughter. Tony desperately wanted a drink.

"I'll settle down when I find somebody that understands me for me. Just Tony. Cheesy, I know, but if I didn't have money, if I didn't have a shiny suit that blows stuff up, if I didn't have the brains…I wonder what my partner would look like then."

The audience was silent. The host shuffled his cards, obviously looking for a cue to drag things back from the serious turn.

Because Tony Stark didn't do serious, he didn't do relationships.

Fuck, he didn't do emotion, period. He usually did everything in his power to deflect from his weaknesses, and here he was, declaring one on national television.

_Fuck you, Loki._

"I know people expect a lot out of me, and it's my fault: I made it that way. I decided to be the bratty billionaire genius to keep a spotlight on me, but at the end of the day, I want a piece of what everybody else has. I wanna curl up with somebody I love after a shitty day at work; I want somebody to be there when I wake up. It's stupid, it's sentiment, but that's the draw, isn't it? The warm and fluffy feeling. And America's forgotten that, I think, that we're superheroes, not saints. Sure, we do what we do because we _know_ we're the only ones who _can_. We want to protect the world, but after a long day of saving your asses, we wanna drink a beer while we bitch about how difficult it was."

More silence. Fantastic. Tony probably already had people arranging a press conference to explain away this uncharacteristic tirade.

But he was sure Bruce, Clint, Natasha and even Steve agreed with him on that one. If Thor were in their realm, he knew the man would be smiling and nodding his approval, Jane tucked into his side.

They were still people, goddammit. They had to sleep, eat, and bitch like the rest of humanity. Natasha ate chocolate ice cream when she was on her period and Steve liked barbequing on lazy Sunday afternoons. Clint read actual _books_ when he thought nobody was looking (for long flights was his only weak defense), and Bruce stood in line for his coffee at Starbucks.

Seriously. Bruce Banner, the freaking Hulk, actually waited in lines for things. Tony didn't know what that felt like, and he hoped to god to never have to feel it. Ever.

"Well, that is certainly something to think about, isn't it folks?" the host finally stuttered, adjusting his tie, "Tony Stark, ladies and gentlemen."

* * *

Tony, feeling more than a little unbalanced from his rant on the talk show, ordered his jet to be ready and waiting by the time he reached the airport.

He was going home.

The Malibu house had always been home to him. No matter how much property he bought, no matter how crazy life got, it was his haven.

It was a safe place to hide from the world, especially when he was feeling vulnerable.

He spent most of the flight thinking, which threw off his hot stewardess because she had already poured him a drink before he hit his seat, and he hadn't done much more to it than destroy the cocktail straw between fidgety fingers.

He didn't even know WHY he felt the need to go home, but he really, really didn't feel like being in the tower. Bruce would be back in a few days, Clint right behind him, and if Natasha didn't feel like going back to wherever-the-fuck S.H.I.E.L.D's secret headquarters were that week, she'd be a roomie too.

But right now, the tower was just…not cool all alone.

So Tony thought some laziness on his pool deck was in order. He'd definitely drink tomorrow.

He was jolted out of his storm cloud thoughts by his Stark phone going off. It was one of his favorite Bach pieces, a posh song for a posh AI butler. This particular ringtone was letting him know it was a transmission from Jarvis' security.

"Talk to me, Jarv."

"Sir, I thought you would like to be made aware that Mr. Loki activated the audio recognition protocol approximately twenty seconds ago."

Tony's stomach flipped, "What's he doing?"

"He's ordering me to turn off his audio recognition track."

Tony smirked to himself: he didn't care, he'd never get over assigning Ice Ice Baby to Loki, probably not ever.

"…okay, go ahead. I'd rather not have him destroy my tower twice."

"Already done, sir."

"And what's he doing now?"

"Ordering me to contact you of your whereabouts. He is threatening to destroy me if you do not reveal your current location."

"He can try," Tony said, clicking a code into the holograph of the phone, "he can blow the tower to smithereens; doesn't mean he'll fry you, Jarv. You're wherever I program you to be. Besides, he's bluffing."

"You're very confident, sir. I do believe Mr. Loki is quite serious."

"Tell his overdramatic ass to find me himself," Tony said, not believing his own words.

Was he really that bored? Seriously?

Sure, send an unstable god on a wild goose chase. No big deal.

There was silence for a moment, and then…

_"You wish to play a game against me, Anthony?"_

Tony wouldn't admit that he was surprised to hear Loki's voice come over his receiver. Thankfully he had dismissed his stewardess for the rest of the flight forever ago or he'd be in hot shit at the moment.

At least he could chalk this little mobile experience to Jarvis transmitting audio from any room in the tower: obviously Jarvis didn't have a physical receiver for Loki to be talking into, but it was still strange to hear a god's voice through a cell phone.

"Not against, with. What? You thought all I owned was a pretty tower? I'm going home."

It was quiet a moment, and then, _"Home. I do not understand."_

Tony shrugged, "The tower isn't home. I didn't – I don't wanna be there right now."

And then Tony realized what that sounded like, and quickly tried to backtrack, "Ah shit, Loki, it's not because of you –"

"Sir, Ms. Potts has entered the first floor of the tower."

_"Ah, a friend of yours I have yet to meet,"_ Loki added, making Tony instantly ill.

"Jarvis, override elevator access. Tell her I went home. I'll be back in a few days, nothing to worry about."

_"Shall I ask this Pepper where you are, Anthony?"_

And a full-body shiver racked Tony at the thought of Loki being anywhere near his ex-girlfriend.

"Don't you dare touch her, Loki. Friends don't torture other friend's friends."

_"You started the game, Tony,_" Loki said silkily, _"and I did not promise to play by any rules."_

"Fuck, Loki, okay, just…Jarvis, give him coordinates," Tony said, closing his eyes at being so easily manipulated, "I'm assuming that's enough for you to find me? Or do you need a GPS for your mini van?"

_"See you shortly, Anthony."_

"Loki, I swear to god if you touch –"

"Sir, as he is not speaking, I have no means of insuring that he is no longer in the tower."

"Fuck. Is Pepper leaving?"

"Yes, sir. She plans on calling you in the morning over the live interview. She is concerned."

"Fuck. Call her now."

The phone rang for two beats, then, "Tony? Why are you escaping to Malibu?"

"No reason," Tony feigned nonchalance even though he could feel sweat on the palms of his hands.

_Of course you're sweating: you've just been doing something incredibly dangerous and stupid._

_And nothing turns you on more._

"Seriously, Pep, I'm fine. Figured I'd catch some shut eye and sunshine before Captain Barbosa calls me in for duty," Tony lied smoothly, not even sure if S.H.I.E.L.D would have an assignment for him in the next few days. Short of an earth-shattering catastrophe, he was pretty much kept out of the loop, which he was fine with.

"The interview seemed…a little intense," Pepper continued, that motherly tone Tony recognized immediately, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fit as a fiddle," Tony blurted, not ready to talk about his emotional insecurity concerning an immortal god, "I'll call you tomorrow. Just wanna get some rest. I'm beat, okay?"

She sighed, "Alright, Tony. Get some rest. And if you won't talk to me, at least consider talking to Bruce about it."

"Sure. Will do. And Pepper?"

"Yes?"

"Be safe tonight."

"Um, okay, Tony."

"Cuz there's a lot of crazy people in New York. _Really_ crazy people. You have your pepper spray with you, right?"

Pepper laughed, "Goodnight, Tony."

The transmission cut out.

Tony sighed.

Then picked up his previously untouched drink.

Come on, he deserved at least one for all that drama.

And maybe another one for all the drama that was bound to be waiting for him.

* * *

**[TBC]**


	4. Chapter 4

_Happy Hangover Day! *gurgles pathetically from the floor* -TPP_

* * *

**Brat**

Part 4.

[or When Tony Realized He Was Royally Fucked, part deuce]

* * *

The rest of the flight had Tony on pins and needles.

The drive from the airport had him practically hyperventilating.

"Jarvis, any activity?"

"Nothing sinister, sir. The housekeeper refreshed the sheets in the master bedroom and stocked the fridge with perishables over two hours ago before departing."

"What about video?"

"Besides a stray feline in the front driveway thirteen minutes ago, zero activity."

Tony took a deep breath, "Cut all surveillance and audio input in the Malibu house."

"Sir, I do not think that very wise."

"Actually it's very, very wise. The last thing I want is evidence turning up when shit hits the fan," Tony mumbled, knowing that the clock was ticking.

How much longer did he have until Loki was free of Asgard, his batteries totally recharged, until _S.H.I.E.L.D_ was crawling up his team's communal ass hole?

It was only five minutes after that dark thought that Tony was parking in his ridiculous driveway and pulling familiar keys from his pocket.

Jarvis had confirmed all form of surveillance had been cut. If anybody from _S.H.I.E.L.D_ or Pepper got in his face about it, he'd throw some privacy bullshit at them, or even fake having had some kind of emotional breakdown.

Which he still hadn't decided if he was going to have yet or not, thank you very much.

At the moment, he was more worried about his physical breakdown, i.e. broken legs or jaw thanks to a god that believed himself slighted in some way for Tony taking a day off.

And it had been nearly 72 hours since the last time Tony had seen the naked god. He hadn't told the god to stay away, he'd wandered off on his own: probably more bubble baths in daddy's castle in the sky.

"Fucking brat," Tony huffed, snapping his fingers as he walked down hallways, the lighting immediately responding.

Is that why he was annoyed and on edge? Because he hadn't seen the god in nearly 72 (not that he was counting because he definitely wasn't) hours?

He went straight for one of many liquor cabinets, breaking out a bottle of Jack Daniels and a crystal tumbler.

And there he sat drinking for the next two hours, no sign of a malevolent god.

Tony had no idea if that was a good sign or not.

So he started watching tv.

And kept drinking and watching.

Until the sun came up.

"What. The. Fuck," Tony growled, pressing his face into a couch cushion. He was tired, but his brain just wouldn't shut up enough for him to get some shut-eye.

He had stayed up. All night.

For no reason other then the promise of seeing Loki show up?

But Tony had to say this was the first time he'd been stood up in his entire life.

It was an extremely unattractive feeling.

Which made him want to drink more, and since he was a seasoned drinker, he knew he had to keep drinking to stave off a horrible hangover.

So he mixed some yummy screwdrivers with the fresh orange juice in the fridge and a bottle of vodka, ignoring the thought that Loki's favorite Midgardian alcohol to date was vodka.

"You can do this, Tony," he coached himself, changing into black board shorts and heading out to his pool, "You can go a whole five minutes without thinking about him. I believe in you, champ."

He drank one of his (four) screwdrivers before diving into his pool.

He swam around for a bit, his drinks lined up on the edge of the pool, and for some reason this painted a really, really pathetic picture.

Tony swam to the ledge to pick up another drink.

A pale hand intercepted him, picking it up before he could.

He looked up at Loki, not admitting that his eyes were practically starving to stare at the god.

And how, HOW was it fair that the little brother of Thor looked so goddamn hot in a fucking suit, standing in the California sun?

Black suit and skinny black tie…just...if it didn't look so good on him, Tony would be ripping it off of him right then.

"Good morning, Anthony," Loki said, sipping the drink while his other hand was casually in a tailored trouser pocket. He looked out past the pool deck; probably focusing on the ocean as Tony tried to figure out how to speak, "Sleep well?"

He hadn't expected a district attorney Loki, and it was doing funny things to his insides.

And Loki didn't look angry, which put him immediately on edge.

"You know I didn't," Tony shot back, picking up one of the two drinks left on the ledge and throwing it back.

Loki was still looking out at the ocean, a smirk playing across his face as he continued to sip the goddamn screwdriver.

For some reason, this weird-ass behavior was pissing Tony off, "What's got you in such a good mood? Kill a litter of newborn kittens?"

The smirk turned into a full-out grin, his head cocking down to stare at Tony. _FUCK._

The god sunk down to his haunches, balancing on the balls of his feet, elbows resting on his knees as he smiled.

It practically knocked Tony the fuck out. The god was so gorgeous it was making his eyes hurt.

And his dick. His dick was definitely hurting.

"The sun, the wind, the water…I like this paradise you have chosen as home. I am impressed, Anthony."

Tony just continued to stare like a fucking idiot because he did NOT know what to do with a super-happy Loki.

What the fuck was this?

"Are there drugs in Asgard? 'Cuz you've got to be on something."

Loki laughed, "Can I not be in a good mood without causing doubt within others? I assure you I have no sinister intentions."

"Yet."

"Yet," Loki conceded with another ridiculously attractive smile, "so let us not pretend you do not want me here. I think a sleepless night is proof enough of that."

Tony's eyes narrowed, "You did that on purpose. Threatened Pepper. Had me up all night, not knowing when you'd pop in to fuck with me. No sleep. Extra cranky."

"I did not say I would harm her; you came to that conclusion on your own merit. I simply wished to know where you were."

"You're still an ass hole. You don't fuck with the people I care about because you're fucking _bored _and can't find your BFF."

Loki sighed, "You're being petulant."

"And you're a dick," Tony seethed.

Loki studied his face, his brow furrowing slightly before smoothing out, "You're angry."

"No fucking duh, Sherlock."

"You're angry because I was not here when you wished me to be," he said lowly, still staring into Tony's eyes with a growing smile, "you're angry…because you missed me."

"What? What the fuck're you going on about?" Tony immediately defended, running a hand through his hair before attempting to pick up the last remaining drink.

Loki intercepted, tugging the drink from him effortlessly.

"You do not need anymore of this."

"You're not my mother! I can do whatever I want!"

"I do not wish you to be drunk to deal with your emotions," Loki said seriously, the drink disappearing into thin air by a whispered word Tony didn't catch, "Now, are you coming out, or am I coming in?"

Tony was immediately reminded of the heat in his stomach with the words and tone.

"In that suit? Real or not, I don't think –"

Loki waved his hand and the suit disappeared.

At least this time he wasn't naked. Tony didn't think he could survive another episode of that, but the green garment was little more than a fancy loincloth.

The Asgardian answer to Speedos.

Loki smirked before diving over Tony and coming up for air a moment later. It wasn't deep in this area, and Loki was already freakishly tall, so Tony was free to stare at Loki from just above his bellybutton up to that wet hair he was slicking back with both hands, his green eyes drilling into Tony and Tony was just _nawt_ liking his libido at the moment.

Because he was freaking harder than that stupid hammer Mjolnir, and maybe Loki knew it.

"What? No water wings?" Tony quipped, feeling like _he_ was the one in a Speedo and needed to keep that sneaky fucker away from him.

Loki wandered closer, his hands brushing through the water with a smile, "I do not understand your strange Midgardian reference. However, I enjoy water. It is very soothing to me."

And then he flicked water at Tony's forehead with his middle and pointer finger wearing that infuriating half-grin, with his hair all slicked back and his body all wet, just like that day in the lab –

Had it really only been three days since The Naked Incident? Had it really only been _six_ days since starting this insane relationship?

Friendship. Fucking friendship, Tony. Nothing more.

But a playful Loki? A carefree Loki? He didn't trust it for a fucking second, no matter how goddamn attractive it was.

Loki, flicking water at Tony, like a fucking giant five-year-old trying to start a water war.

And, of course, Tony's maturity level was even weaker than a five-year-old. He was three-and-a-half.

"Oh, it's on," he growled, attacking Loki with wave after wave. The god laughed, fucking _laughed_, like, pretty much _squealed_ and started to retaliate almost immediately, his waves cutting through Tony's so effortlessly he knew magic was involved somehow.

"Fucking cheater!" Tony choked through the water assaulting his face and mouth. He slipped beneath the water, propelling himself forward to tackle the god around the middle, trying to pull him under, but it wasn't working very well.

First of all, Tony had completely forgotten how fucking strong Loki was, even if he was a projection. Maybe his magic was more stabilized now, or something, because Tony felt like he'd broken a cheekbone on the god's hipbone.

And then Loki was pushing his head under, dunking him. He spluttered to the surface, wiping the chlorine from his eyes as Loki ran one of his hands soothingly through Tony's hair as if to apologize.

"If you weren't freakishly strong, I would've totally won," Tony defended.

"Of course, Tony."

And then that same hand stroked across Tony's face, down his jaw, and that's when it hit Tony.

Heat. He could feel _heat_ coming off of Loki.

Tony jerked out of the touch, pushing himself backwards until his back hit the edge of the pool.

"What is the matter?" Loki asked, his eyebrows drawn together.

"It's magic, isn't it?" Tony whispered, suddenly fighting for air, "It's just your magic, right?"

"Tony…"

"You're _warm_," Tony spat, panicking as the god waded closer to him, "Your projections can't be warm. They have no thermal energy because they aren't _real!"_

"Tony."

"No! Stop!" Tony said, throwing his hands out in front of himself. He felt like he was going to pass out, "You told me you'd get free, you told me that, but already? Right now? Right the _fuck_ now…?"

"Tony," Loki repeated. It was like a fucking mantra and Tony flinched as Loki's chest pressed right up against his hands, making Tony yank them back against his body like he'd be struck, "Do not fear me."

"Holy shit, holy fucking hell," Tony sputtered, trying to control his breathing, "I didn't think – how did you, but it's only been…and I thought –"

Loki placed a finger against Tony's lips, making him instantly still.

"It is true. I managed to manipulate one of the crucial binding spells…"

"But I thought you couldn't –"

"I was able to mask the transference of magical energy long enough to escape Asgard. My clone disintegrated almost immediately upon teleporting dimensions," Loki said quietly, "I am sure a galactic manhunt has already been ordered by Odin."

"Shit, Loki –"

"Time moves differently between realms," Loki continued, his hands settling so lightly on Tony's shoulders he barely registered it, "I have one, possibly two Midgardian days of absolute freedom before the Bifrost is opened and they search the remaining Eight realms."

"Two days," Tony repeated, trying to ignore the fact that Loki's hands had started stroking across his cheekbones, "So Thor will be back. _S.H.I.E.L.D_ will be all over the fucking place…"

"Do not be angry with me."

"How the _fuck_ can I be angry with you right now?" Tony practically shouted, his hands slapping into the water at his sides, "You just broke out of alien god jail and crossed dimensions to have a pool party with me!"

Loki's thumbs moved over his cheeks, wiping away…holy shit, Tony was crying.

Manly tears, but still, fucking tears. He'd never live this down later, he was sure of it.

"It is why I could not stop smiling today," Loki murmured, "Today I am free in the place I most want to be."

And goddammit son of a bitch on a bicycle, that was fucking _it._

Tony grabbed the god's face and kissed him. Like, full on, _zombie-apocalypse-might-not-be-alive-in-ten-minute s_ hotness.

And damn, was it hot, 'cuz Loki responded to it almost immediately, and his mouth was a fucking furnace and the texture of his tongue was rough, rougher than a human tongue, and it made Tony practically growl.

'Cuz nobody had ever, ever done something so horribly, so stupendously stupid to be with him, not ever.

Or said something so Shakespearean-y and flower-y and romance novel-y, and Tony was just _goo_ for that bullshit because he'd never felt like anybody had ever tried to woo him before.

But Loki sure as fuck knew how to woo.

He broke the kiss to breathe. Air was good. Air was a necessity.

"That's some seriously romantic bullshit you just pulled."

"Was it?"

"Like Titanic, but you're a Frost Giant so you probably can't die of hypothermia in glacier-infested water. And I'm not letting you draw me naked."

Loki drew him into another kiss, this one slow and torturous before he said, "I am actually quite gifted in the arts. Do not make promises you do not intend to keep, Anthony."

And it was said so silkily, so low and heated, that Tony didn't care if _S.H.I.E.L.D,_ Thor, and every Asgardian warrior in the galaxy busted in on them right then, he wasn't letting Loki go anywhere until he'd gotten off.

In, with, or on Loki, he didn't really care.

"Less talky, more grabby," Tony demanded, his hands going for Loki's hips as he dipped his head up to steal another kiss. Loki didn't seem to have a problem with that.

Especially when he slammed Tony into the side of the pool, drawing his legs up around his waste as he ground forward into Tony, panting into his ear.

Nope, definitely not a problem.

They kissed again, Tony arching his hips back against the god, their erections painful and obvious.

And then Loki gave Tony a moment to breathe, his breath against Tony's ear as he chuckled.

"So much precious time wasted. I should have thrown you against the floor that day, not through a window."

"Fuck," Tony panted, so past the point of turned on he didn't know how he was still holding out.

"Yes, I would very much like that."

And Loki canted his hips, faster and faster, forcing them to grind together, and Tony panted against Loki's mouth because shit shit shit, he was about to cum in his pants like a teenager.

"Mmf, Loki, gonna…"

"Yes."

"…gotta, gotta…"

"Yes," Loki smirked, his hands dipping down around from Tony's hips to grab his ass, "Please do."

And Tony shuddered and came, breaths stuttering out of his chest only to be sucked up by the greedy god in licking kisses, making Tony moan.

Then Loki lifted him over the side of the pool like he weighed as much as a Hot Pocket.

Tony just lay on the cement, eyes closed, as the god sat beside him.

When Tony opened his eyes again, the god was dry.

And redressed in that suit. Yum.

Tony ran a hand over his face, "Um, did you…?"

Loki smirked, "No, Anthony."

"Um, do you need…help?"

Never let it be said that Tony Stark left a lover unsatisfied! Sure, he was the one-night-stand guy, but he was the _legendary_ one-night-stand guy.

It was unacceptable that there was no mutual benefit of that now-favorite pool activity.

"I am a god, Tony. It would take much more than you are ready for right now for me to achieve orgasm."

"Challenge accepted. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a blushing virgin."

Loki smirked, leaning over and down to place a chaste kiss on Tony's lips before running a hand through Tony's hair, "I could crush your pelvis in a single thrust, sweetling."

"Well, what if I took you instead? Yeah, that sounds like a good plan."

"I fear the same results."

"Show off," Tony mumbled, finally sitting up. He felt ridiculous sitting soaking wet in a bathing suit next to a dry, composed, suit-clad Loki, but weird is what worked for them.

Apparently. Or he wouldn't have just had a teenage moment in the pool. With a god. Who was the little brother of his teammate/friend/drinking buddy/fellow Pop Tart enthusiast.

Forget _S.H.I.E.L.D_ kicking his ass, he'd probably get _Mjolnir_ to the face soon as Thor found Loki.

Which, by the way, was still a huge problem for the orgasm-happy billionaire.

"I must learn my limits with you. I am not saying it is impossible, but if I were to attempt to satisfy my needs and…urges with you, at this moment, I am afraid I would kill you."

Tony put that genius brain to good use, "So…what you're saying is we're stuck idling on third base even though you've got the speed of a Kenyan to make it a perfect home run?"

(Tony was still debating internally if they had, in fact, reached third base considering his dick hadn't technically been touched, but the point was moot because Loki probably didn't know what the sport of baseball was, much less the sex metaphors for it.)

"I do not know to what you are referring, but full consummation is out of the question at the moment."

Which should have outraged Tony: he hadn't had such limitations since he was sixteen.

But…for some reason, it made his stomach all wonky.

Because they'd have to take this slow. Because Loki gave a fuck if he hurt Tony.

_Aw, man. Cue the sappy Disney music._

But seriously, his Tony Stark pride was on the line. He had to do _something._

"What if I used my hand?"

Loki sighed, "Tony, you are severely underestimating the endurance of an immortal."

"So no hand job?"

"It would take hours, especially with how I'm feeling at the moment."

Tony smirked, "I make you that horny, huh?"

"Of course."

And he said it so seriously that Tony couldn't help but pull him into another kiss.

Damn, he was 39.9 years old for Christ's sake, but he felt like a high school freshman behind the bleachers.

(And to be honest, Tony had never had that feeling. Not really. Probably because he had been barely pubescent when he was in high school. Tony still believed jocks were jerks, and he wouldn't know a football field from a soccer field unless…never mind. He owned at least two of each. Probably. There wasn't much he didn't own. Sometimes it was a game he played with himself: _What Doesn't Tony Own?_ was actually a very, very challenging game. Great for road trips.)

And nobody on earth (aside from Jane, the bitch) could say they had an Asgardian god.

Which was stupid of Tony to think because, come on, they'd been enemies for much longer than they had been friends. And the 'friends' bit had escalated rather quickly, in Tony's opinion.

But he felt it, nonetheless. It was stupid, he knew it was, to feel any sense of ownership over an immortal god, especially one as untamable as Loki, but he did.

Because Tony Stark was selfish, entitled, and looked goddamn good in a three-piece suit.

And if he wanted to be romantically involved with an intergalactic terrorist, well, honestly, who was going to tell him _no?_

You know, besides Fury and Steve and Bruce and Nat and Legolas and Pepper and Jarvis and those other scary _S.H.I.E.L.D_ board members who looked intimidating on Skype?

And Odin and Thor and Momma Frigga and the Warriors Three or whatever the fuck they called themselves these days?

Besides all them? Well, that left the list pretty damn short.

Being with Loki would be like playing poker: he'd bluff (a lot), one of them would fold (hopefully over a desk), and the chips would fall wherever they may (which, since both of them got hard-ons when it came to chaos and danger, Tony didn't see much of a problem).

Besides, Tony was _great_ at poker. Owning seven casinos on three different continents did that to a person.

And at least he _knew_ Loki's name. He'd fucked plenty of people who were nameless and faceless, so if somebody wanted to argue with him over his sincerity, he at least had that.

"So we're together. Kind of. I guess."

Loki narrowed his eyes slightly, "You sound uncertain."

"Well, what would you call this? I mean, I hate labels and love crossing lines I shouldn't, but…"

"We are us."

"Wow, that was deep, Mufasa."

Loki gripped his chin, his eyes emerald supernovas, "You are mine, Anthony Edward Stark. And I will crush the skull of anyone who attempts to keep you from me."

Oh, wow. Yeah, there was that Norse Viking mentality Tony thought had been missing from the modern-day mythology that was his life these days.

(And how the fuck did Loki know his middle name? He didn't print that on his business cards.)

Creepy but sexy. Somehow Loki made that balance.

It was probably unhealthy, too, but whatever. It was super sexy to have Loki feel that possessive, especially since their relationship was so underdeveloped it could barely be called a fetus.

"You have any idea how hot it is when you get territorial? 'Cuz I'm really tempted to let you break my pelvis right now."

Loki sighed and kissed Tony on the forehead, "Unfortunately I would not allow such temptation."

"You said it would take hours," Tony said, his smile slow as he slid a hand over Loki's trouser-clad crotch, "…using my hands. What about my mouth?"

Tony felt heat shoot through his core as Loki's pupils dilated, "I do not know."

Tony teased the zipper down on Loki's pants, "Better pay attention, then. There'll be a quiz afterwards."

Loki hummed as Tony's hand wrapped around Loki's ridiculously warm (seriously, wasn't he supposed to be a _frost_ Giant? How the hell was he this physically hot?) cock, pulling it free from the confines of his trousers to study it.

And holy…yeah. Okay.

"Um, remember that day you tried to make me a blue-eyed mind slave and I, uh, said that thing about 'performance issues'?"

"Yes. Very well," Loki said, his voice dripping in amusement.

"Yeah. I didn't know what the fuck I was talking about."

"I may be the runt of my people, Tony, but I am still Jotun. Of course I am well-endowed."

"Frost Giant. Yeah. Apparently your dick didn't get the 'runt' memo."

Loki stroked his cheek before moving his hand up into Tony's hair, tugging it gently, "Tony, I agree our verbal banter is extremely stimulating, but your words alone will not be enough to sate my _- rather urgent -_ state of desire."

"Okay," Tony said, stretching out and getting comfy, head in the god's lap, "but if I die choking on this thing, no dick jokes on my gravestone."

* * *

The answer was almost two hours, give or take, considering Tony'd had to take several breaks to allow feeling back into his jaw and throat.

And Loki had not been ungrateful. Tony had cum two more times in between, so his jaw might be in need of an ice pack, but the rest of him was absolutely buzzing with endorphins.

Which was probably why they were lying (snuggling) on one of Tony's giant leather couches in front of the tv.

It was a re-run of _Ghost Hunters,_ but neither party was paying attention.

They were far too busy being aware of each other.

In, like, a comfy, domesticated, we've-been-dating-for-months kind of way, which, to Tony, made absolutely zero sense. Tony just curled into Loki's side, Loki's body relaxed, a throw blanket over them like what you do on rainy days. All they were missing was the hot chocolate with the little marsh mellows.

Loki's fingers would just trail lightly down his arm, or dip over his knuckles, super innocent touches that were just driving Tony crazy. Or he'd tilt his head and brush his nose against Tony's temple, the edge of his ear, his hair.

Maddening. Absolutely maddening.

But Tony was too tired to pursue sex again, and his dick was actually agreeing with him for once.

And seriously, his jaw hurt, and if he got off again, he'd feel so guilty he'd be sucking the god off again, which Tony didn't think he could handle.

Even though Loki's cum had tasted kind of awesome in a weird way. Minty.

And it sure as hell hadn't felt like two hours.

Which scared Tony, because time meant everything when it came to the trickster.

"Lokes."

"Mm?"

Tony buried his nose into the crook of Loki's neck, "What happens in two days?"

It was quiet. Loki was just gently running his fingers over the back of Tony's neck, a neck that he could snap like a pixie stick if the god got pissed enough.

Loki sighed, "They will come to Midgard first. Of course I would be here, seeking revenge against a race that had bested me. The Avengers will assemble, Thor will be filled with righteous anger, and the hunt will begin."

"This sucks."

"My magic can be traced to Midgard, but that is the extent of Odin's sway. I am as skilled in hiding as I am in escaping."

"So you hide until everybody gives up and goes home."

"I see no other option. Not at this time, anyway."

Tony knew he was right, but it still sucked.

"You will be watched closely, I'm sure, as will all the Avengers."

"It's just stupid. You escape every lock they throw at you, and they won't kill you, so what's the point? Why can't they just leave you alone?"

"You are worried for me," Loki murmured, a smile in his voice, "do not be. I have taken care of myself for centuries: this will not be any different from the rest. My lack of activity will bore all in due time, including myself."

"Yeah, but…"

"Tony, you want something I cannot guarantee you. All I _can_ guarantee is that I will not allow myself to be separated from you without a fight. "

The words made Tony's gut squirm again, his heart feeling too tight.

Shit.

"But I can't protect you. Not from Odin, not from Thor, not even _S.H.I.E.L.D,"_ Tony admitted, and it sucked to say it.

"I don't expect you to," Loki said, grabbing one of Tony's hands and running his fingertips over Loki's lips.

Tony felt them then, and if he stared really hard, he could see them: slivers of fine scars, all around his lips, like…

_They'd been stitched shut_.

Tony's stomach rolled, and not in a good way.

Loki pecked a kiss on Tony's pointer finger, "There you are: proof that I have been in far worse situations."

* * *

Tony had to admit that coming out to the Malibu house had been a fantastic idea.

A mini vacation that was only made better by Loki's presence.

Even though the clock was ticking, Tony kept pushing it to the back of his mind.

He liked Loki. A lot.

And it surprised him that his brain wasn't fighting him on this (but how could it when his body was a revving engine, just _yes-yes-yes_ whenever the god was within reach?)

And Loki hadn't even touched him intimately again since the how-many-licks-does-it-take challenge by the pool.

That had been yesterday. Like, twenty hours ago. (Is that why he was so exhausted?)

But that didn't mean that they didn't make out like sixteen year olds all over the house.

"You're really serious about this whole abstinence thing," Tony sighed, his mouth swollen from kisses and his neck practically purple from hickies. Loki had migrated them to the master bedroom (how he'd known where it was without Tony giving him the grand tour was another one of those stalker-creeper moments he didn't want to think about).

"It is a wish of mine for us to wait," Loki murmured into his ear, biting it gently, "I must ask you to trust me in this."

"I do, but I don't have to like it," Tony mumbled into the top of Loki's chest.

"No, you do not. Now shut up and go to sleep," Loki said, his fingers stroking lazily through Tony's hair and making him hum.

So here Tony was, lying in bed with someone without sexing them silly first.

The desire to get up and run screaming for the hills wasn't there.

In fact, his brain was still trying to figure out a way to keep Loki there past their doomsday clock set by Odin and a bunch of pissed off Asgardians.

He closed his eyes.

He didn't want Loki to leave him.

And that, ladies and gentleman, was the moment when Tony realized he might just possibly_ –fuck it, definitely-_ be falling in love.

Shit.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thor The Dark World...Thor The Dark World...Thor The Dark World...*head explodes*. -TPP_

* * *

**Brat**

Part 5.

[Or What It Feels Like To Lose]

* * *

Tony Stark was used to waking up alone.

So he really shouldn't be surprised that Loki isn't in bed with him when he cracks his eyes open the next morning.

But he'd (kinda) been expecting it. And Tony Stark expecting _anything_ out of _anybody?_ Yeah, that didn't happen.

So right when he thinks he's about to start throwing angst like a teenage girl, he smells something.

Something that has his stomach rumbling because, holy crap, had he eaten at _all_ yesterday? There definitely hadn't been a burger run during their snog fest.

But the smell. Yes. Yes that was definitely what he thought it was.

So he got up, following the smell to the kitchen.

"Oh my god. My dreams are getting weirder and weirder," Tony mumbled.

Loki turned his head slightly at Tony's entrance. Loki was wearing black sweat pants that were too big for him (looked so damned sexy hanging off his hips like that…) and a worn-out Black Sabbath t-shirt that was one of Tony's favorites.

And he was flipping bacon.

So Loki was wearing his clothes…and cooking. It was insanely hot, so hot Tony was pretty sure he was standing there drooling like a complete idiot.

"Good morning, Tony," Loki said, turning back to the bacon and placing it on a giant white platter.

"Uh, mornin'. Um, what're you doing?"

"Is it not obvious?" Loki replied, looking back at Tony with one eyebrow raised.

Like TONY was the ridiculous one. What and what?

"What're you making?" Tony said, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

Loki smiled, placing the platter in front of Tony, "A midmorning meal. Would you eat with me?"

And honestly, he had no idea what this concoction was, but even if Steve's liver and Pepper's brainstem was hidden under the mountain of what looked like sliced potatoes, cheese, vegetables, and bacon, Tony would eat it anyway.

Just because of that damn earnest smile.

His heart felt like it was fizzling.

_Fuck fuck fuck,_ he wasn't falling in love. He couldn't be.

He'd have Jarv run a full diagnostic checkup on the arc reactor in his chest later in case there was something wrong with it.

There had to be, right?

"Uh, sure. I'm starving," Tony admitted.

Loki smiled and held up a fork, "Excellent. Shall we?"

"This is a heart attack waiting to happen," Tony said, staring at the crazy mountain of gluttony, "But yeah, sure, let's go for it."

Tony speared into the mountain and spun his fork like it was spaghetti before pulling it up, stringy cheese getting in the way as he took it to his mouth.

And oh lord, yeah, his arteries were going to be clogged for decades.

But _damn_ did it taste good.

"What do you think of my impromptu concoction?" Loki asked, taking a small bite himself, "Many Midgardian foods are unknown to me, but these taste and look very similar to foods found in Asgard."

"It's good. Wish I'd drank more: this would be the hangover cure of the gods," Tony said, chewing some more as he stared at the god of mischief, "No pun intended."

"Of course not," Loki said, licking the end of his fork clean before spearing a broccoli.

They continued to eat in companionable silence, which should've been weird (because since when was Tony comfortable in silence? It didn't exist in his world) but it was comfy, and safe, and…nice.

Just…domestic.

Tony groaned before running his hands over his face.

"What is the matter?"

"You're killing me, Lokes," Tony admitted, his stomach full of Mischief Maker Shepherd's Pie.

Loki's eyebrows drew together, "I assure you, Anthony, I most certainly am not."

Tony laughed, trying to ignore the wiggling feeling in his chest, "Another stupid Midgardian expression. Just ignore my verbal ramblings, my liege."

"Sarcasm I understand quite well, Anthony," Loki said, a dangerous air to his voice, "And do not think you can distract me by barbing me. Now tell me, what do you mean?"

Tony gulped, staring at Loki's _I'm-super-serious_ face, and Tony realized that yeah, this was still an immortal god capable of knocking him clear across the room with the power of a sneeze, not to mention an evil mastermind so well-versed in manipulation that he had written the book.

Tony probably gave away more in his body language than he did in actual English. With that in mind, Tony crossed his arms over his chest.

Posturing wasn't going to do much for him at this point, but he didn't want Loki reading his feelings, especially since Tony wasn't ready to face them.

Had it really only been a week? Really, Tony? You'd think falling in love with a crazy god would take a bit longer than that.

"It's just a stupid expression, like, uh, driving me crazy. Wait, maybe you don't understand that either. So, how do I explain this…"

"I trouble you?" Loki asked, his eyes focused and intense. Tony was the center of attention.

Tony was used to being the center of attention, but he was finding when he had Loki's attention, he felt awesome.

Like…just better. Tony only ever felt this calm when he was working on a project for fun.

"Well, in a way, I guess you could say. It's not a big deal, Loki. I'm just tired and hungry," Tony said, beginning to shove food into his mouth to stop from rambling.

Loki's eyes traveled over him. Tony tensed. Ugh, he was studying him, he was going to figure it out, he was going to KNOW, and that scared the fuck out of him!

"I didn't even know gods cooked. Couldn't you just magic food whenever you wanted?" Tony said through another bite of potato.

There you go, Stark. Deflect! _Deflect deflect deflect!_

"I could," Loki said, reaching out and pulling the platter out of Tony's reach, his eyes still drilling into Tony, "but magic, like many things, is traceable: it is an energy any Asgardian would be aware of, like a storm on the horizon. When Thor and his mindless monkeys rip through your Midgardian sky, it is the first thing they will think to do."

"So using magic is about as subtle as activating a portal," Tony said, thinking about the Chitauri portal he had jumped through with a nuke. Good times.

"Yes. As if I am that foolish."

"Thor thinks you're that stupid?"

"He thinks I'm that desperate. That I am fueled by neurotic hatred, that I am thirsty for vengeance, that I will be even more dangerous with no driving purpose. And since I do not know exactly when they are coming, I will not use magic from this point until it becomes absolutely necessary," Loki said, his voice light but concentrated, his eyes heavy on Tony's face, "How unfortunate for him that I find myself quite grounded in my mental faculties."

Tony gulped at the intense expression: it wasn't aggressive, but it was knowing, ancient, and it was beginning to make Tony uncomfortable, "Why are you looking at me like that? You're freaking me out."

"You are hiding something from me, and anything that is hidden is a threat," Loki said, his voice hard, controlled, distant.

Tony didn't like that at all.

"Don't do that," Tony said, rubbing at his temples, "Don't close yourself off. Dammit, shit, fuck, shit…"

"Anthony, what do you have to tell me?"

"It's not…" Tony started, "It's…"

"Tony."

"I like you, okay?" Tony blurted, throwing his hands over his face and talking fast, "like _like-like_, a _lot_ of like, there's so much like going on it's making me nauseous and I can't help it because you're not what you're supposed to be and I'm not supposed to like you but I do and it's freaking me out because I used to hate you and you hurt a lot of people but you're different and smart and funny and protective, and sexy, and adorable, and _fun_ and –"

Tony felt Loki's hand on his face and it took him a moment to realize Loki was standing next to him now, his hands tracing the contours of Tony's cheekbones, his eyes focused on Tony's.

He leaned in and kissed Tony slowly, teasingly, adoringly.

And it was driving Tony round and round the cuckoo's nest.

Loki pulled back with a slow half-grin that made his eyes almost dance, "You are sincere in your affections."

"Your voice is hot, babe, but your mouth is hotter," Tony mumbled, eyes zeroed in on Loki's mouth and ready for another make out marathon. He reeled Loki in between his legs, hands firmly on thin hips as he tried to snatch another kiss. Loki chuckled against Tony's ear, denying Tony the kiss.

"Fucking tease."

"Very much so," Loki admitted before allowing Tony a proper kiss with lots of dexterous and skilled tongue. Tony was practically purring into the kisses, Loki's hands fixed firmly in Tony's hair, Tony's fingers beginning to tease along Loki's sides before finally slipping underneath that fucking t-shirt.

Pepper had worn his t-shirts before, a few times, but it'd never been as big of a turn-on as it was right now.

"I like you in my clothes," Tony admitted, his fingers skimming over smooth stomach, "It's so fucking hot."

"Then why, pray tell, are you attempting to remove them from me?" Loki breathed into Tony's ear, yanking his hair just so.

Great. His dick was at full salute already. Jesus.

"Hm, maybe 'cuz I like what's underneath?"

"Do you?"

"Absolutely."

"Charming."

"Always."

The kissing continued. And, of course, Tony's hands continued to roam.

Loki sighed a laugh, "Tony, Tony, Tony. Your hands do not belong in my pants."

Loki's hands were pulling Tony's wrists gently away from a rather warm, impressive erection. (Apparently Loki was naked under those pants, which was just driving Tony wild in all the right ways. It was deliciously, and probably naively, naughty).

Tony wiggled his eyebrows, "Technically, Lokes, they're my pants."

Tony was convinced Loki's smirk could melt the panties off of a nun, "I suppose they are, although I had little choice now that I am restricted in magic. Unless you prefer me naked until the buffoons go back to minding their own business in their own realm."

Tony whined into Loki's shoulder. Yeah, 'cuz having a naked Loki parading everywhere wasn't a complete and total turn-on.

"You're killing me, Lokes."

"I assure you, Anthony, you cannot die from sexual frustration."

"Watch me."

Loki kissed him again, his hand settling over the bulge in Tony's sleep pants, "Don't pout, Tony. It's childish."

Tony groaned as Loki's palm began to massage over him, making him lean back against the bar counter. He nearly shot off the barstool when Loki's hand dipped into his pants and gripped him firmly before tugging smoothly up and down.

"Ffff," was about as intelligent as Tony was going to get at this point. Genius or not, Dick Time made all men complete retards.

And then Loki's mouth was on his neck, sucking, tonguing, and biting, and he was practically hyperventilating.

He was getting a hickey. From a god. In his kitchen.

"Shit shit shit," Tony chanted, his hips trying to thrust up against Loki's squeezing hand, and when Tony tried to reach out a hand to Loki's and maybe get this party really started, Loki shifted his hips away and bit gently into his neck.

A love nip, maybe.

"Loki, lemme touch you!" Tony demanded.

Loki stopped his Master Hickey work and looked at Tony, his pupils blown. He leaned in, ghosting his lips over Tony's as his hand quickened.

"No. The next time I allow you to touch my cock, it will be buried inside you, stretching you open for me. I will claim every part of you and mark you as my own," Loki said, nipping Tony's bottom lip, "And then, and only then…you shall return the favor."

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

And Tony came. It was so sudden it was painful. Tony panted, tugging at the front of Loki's shirt, trying to catch his breath as he rode out the euphoria.

It took way too long for Tony to compose himself (besides sneaking eight thousand more kisses) and stand up. Loki had wiped the mess on the front of Tony's tank top, which should've been gross, or at least annoying, but nothing was worth fighting about after an orgasm.

"Lemme suck you off."

"No."

Yep. If you'd told Tony a week ago he'd be begging to suck off a super villain, he would've laughed in your face.

"Pretty please?"

Loki pecked him on the lips before tugging him towards the couch, practically pushing him down before crawling alongside him. He settled there, wrapping an arm around Tony, "No."

Tony sighed and gave in to the post-coital naptime.

'Cuz Tony Stark did NOT cuddle. Absolutely not.

And if you'd told him a week ago that Loki Laufeyson was a notorious cuddle monster, he would've written you off as a whacko and dropped some money for therapy.

Tony closed his eyes, his body all warm and tingly and awesome, Loki's breath in his hair.

Right. Apparently a lot of shit could change in a week.

* * *

This time when Tony woke up, he was absolutely freezing.

"L-Lo?"

"Mm," came the reply, Loki shifting into consciousness, his breath so fucking cold on the back of Tony's neck it made him squirm to get away.

This seemed to wake Loki completely. He cursed under his breath and literally pushed Tony away from him.

Which made him fall off the couch.

But he couldn't really be mad, because at least he wasn't freezing cold anymore.

And when Tony managed to sit up, rubbing his arms for heat, Loki was clear across the room, his eyes red and feral, his veins a startling shade of blue.

"Loki."

"Do you need a blanket, Tony?"

"No, I'm…it's okay," Tony answered, worried as Loki started pacing back and forth, as far from Tony as possible.

Shit.

"Your Jotun form."

"Yes," Loki was breathing deeply now, his eyes closed, "It is my natural state. With my magic restricted…I did not realize…"

"It's okay."

Loki turned, his face furious, "No, it most certainly is NOT. If you had not woken me when you did, if I had…my full form…you would be dead!"

The yell made Tony jolt. Loki's skin immediately flushed into a gorgeous blue, raised markings appearing on his forehead, a lattice-work proclaiming his heritage, his eyes a molten red that should have been terrifying.

But like many things in nature, Loki was gorgeous in his fury.

Loki was angry.

Pissed off because he'd put Tony in danger, danger he hadn't foreseen. Loki was a being that knew how to pull strings, saw every problem from every angle, but this had completely blind-sided him.

He started pacing again. "I should have foreseen this…"

"Loke –"

"…this weakness. I am weak, much too weak to risk…"

"Loki."

"…what would I do? What would I have done? If you were gone from me…"

"Are you ignoring me right now? Really?"

"Do you not understand?" Loki faced him finally, his voice a loud growl, "I could kill you with a single touch, your fragile mortal body, freeze you to death –"

"Yeah, but you haven't."

"Not yet."

"The point is that you don't want to," Tony said, getting to his feet, "Shit, Lokes, a week ago, would it have bothered you?"

Loki tensed, spinning to stare at Tony.

"A week ago, if I'd died saving this ungrateful world, you wouldn't have given a shit. We were nothing," Tony murmured, "now here we are, and we're dealing, so talk to me, Snowflake, 'cuz I'm not letting you have a mental breakdown by yourself."

Loki's face fell, open and dangerously young as his skin continued to fluctuate between a cobalt and lighter blue, "You do not understand, Anthony. You cannot comprehend…"

"I'm a genius. Try me."

Loki made a choked noise in his throat, turning towards the windows, his back to Tony as he stared out at the billionaire's paid-off paradise. He pressed his hands against the glass, frost immediately spiking out and fogging the giant windows, "Without my magic, I cannot harness this form. I must leave."

"Are you an idiot? You're not going anywhere," Tony practically barked.

Loki removed his hands from the glass, the frosty effect beginning to ebb, "I cannot stay here when I cannot guarantee your safety."

"What are you, my bodyguard now? Besides, where are you going to go? Last time I checked, California wasn't exactly crawling with Frost Giants. Anybody sees you, _S.H.I.E.L.D_ will have you in custody before you even get out an evil laugh of evil. If you wanna play hide-and-seek, at least stay here where I can keep you hidden. I'll reactivate Jarvis –"

"You stupid, stupid boy!" Loki shrieked, spinning on Tony and making him freeze as the glass behind Loki shuddered and cracked, "The Bifrost will open soon, Sif will hunt me, your precious mortals will hunt me, and you will _not_ be safe!"

Loki took a stuttered breath, staring at Tony's face before chuckling, "Perhaps Thor was right when he spoke of madness. This is not how things were to be put into place."

Tony felt instantly ill at the words, his stomach cold, "Wanna run that by me again?"

Loki tilted his head slightly, the feral red of his eyes masked partially by long lashes, "Seducing the Man of Iron, a child's game to pass the time. Amusement at Thor's expense; a silly game with a silly mortal."

Tony thought he was going to throw up.

So it _had_ all been a game?

But then Tony thought about the words, the tone Loki was using, the far-away feeling, how he wouldn't look Tony in the eyes. This was the cold Loki, the calculating Loki, not his cuddle bunny.

Loki couldn't look him in the eye. Loki could talk as much piss as he wanted, but his body language was practically screaming for Tony to not walk away.

It was almost a temper tantrum: Loki was used to hurting people using his words. It was how he crafted most of his destruction; if Tony knew anything about the god at all (which at this point, was still close to nothing) this was an attempt to belittle their relationship to…what? Protect him?

Tony snorted, "You're so full of shit."

Loki's head snapped up, eyes intent, "What did you say?"

"You heard me, oh Great God of Woe. Damn, and I thought Steve was a bad liar," Tony said, walking forward and getting as close to Loki as possible without touching him. His body racked with a shiver anyway, "I'm _not_ going anywhere. I'm not gonna pack up and leave just because you're feeling insecure about having a mortal boyfriend. You wanting to protect me is noble and everything, but I'm a grown ass man, not a helpless damsel. You're the one with a bounty on your head: _I'm_ the one that's supposed to be freaking out. And as for your _Beauty And The Beast_ syndrome, knock it off! I don't give a shit if you're blue or if you're twenty feet tall with a unicorn horn, I like you for _you,_ you fucking moron!"

Tony finally realized he was practically screaming and out of breath. He sniffed, turned towards the couch, and pulled a blanket around himself, "So don't fucking lie to me. You might be able to lie to everybody else, but not me. So don't push me away or say shit like that again, _ever_, or I swear to all the gods in Asgard, I'll end you."

And with that, Tony turned over on the couch, effectively cocooning himself away from Loki in the haven of the soft blanket. He was a blanket burrito. He was so angry he couldn't even think about being cold anymore, so there was a plus.

He huffed into the cushion for a bit, too pissed to get up and find some alcohol but no way was he tired enough to sleep. He closed his eyes anyway, even though he was so consumed in the blanket it's not like Loki could see his face.

Minutes passed. Tony had actually started to drift off when he heard the words.

"I am sorry."

"No you're not," although Tony wasn't sure how well that sounded since he said it into the couch cushion.

"Stark."

"Dickhead."

"Anthony."

"...Liesmith my ass..."

"Tony."

Tony finally sat up, hair disheveled from his blanket haven, anger boiling in his gut,_ "What?"_

"I love you."

...

...

"...Say _what _now?"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Here, have some plot and stuff while I wait patiently for Thor The Dark World. -TPP**

* * *

**Brat**

Part 6

[Or How The Shit Hits The Fan]

* * *

_"I love you."_

Yeah, no. That didn't happen.

Of course people loved Tony. Sure they did. They loved the loud Tony, the flashy Tony, the rich Tony, the funny Tony, the intelligent Tony, the playboy Tony.

But just plain Tony? The sarcastic, narcissistic, egotistical dickhead with PTSD? Nope.

"What'd I just tell you about the lying thing?" Tony finally mumbled.

"It is not a lie," Loki hissed.

Hissing. Now that was new. And surprisingly hot.

Defensive Loki. Hm.

"Obviously you're lying. You can't be in love with me."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Do you have a pen? The list is endless!"

"Enlighten me."

Tony held up his hand, ticking off one finger for each reason, "One, we've been dating, what? A day? If you can even call this dating. Two, you're an immortal god who's probably Don Juan'ed a million humans. Three, we've been not-enemies for a week. A week, Loki, seven days, which is what, like, not even a millisecond in your lifespan? Four, you're on the run from other gods and I'm technically a part of the team sworn to take down baddies like you, so we're really running the risk of this turning into Romeo and Juliet, which would really suck because it's a love theme that is beaten to death in our culture and I refuse to take any part in it…"

"Time seems to be your crowning argument."

"Well, yeah. It has to be."

Loki looked genuinely curious, and that made Tony's stomach do a somersault, "Why?"

_"Why?_ Loki, people don't fall in love in a week. Especially ex-enemies, or whatever the fuck we are. And you can't just drop the L bomb because we got in a fight."

Loki's eyebrows drew together, "The fight, if that is what you wish to call the altercation, is what made me realize my feelings for you. You are passionate in your anger towards me, because you care for me. I feel the need to protect you, even if it is from myself. I am possessive of your intellect as well as your body. Whether you believe my words or not, I am in love with you, and there is very little you can do about it."

Tony just stared at Loki, not sure what to say.

"Being immortal, time has very little relevance to me or others of my kind. I see that time is extremely important to mortals, and it bothers you. However, there is very little I can do about my affection: it is there, and it continues to grow as the days pass. And if I wasn't in my natural form, I would be ravishing you at this very moment, since you do not trust my words, I will show you with my body when the time comes."

Great. Just fucking fantastic.

'Cuz Tony didn't need a trashy romance novel to figure out what ravishing meant, and if it included a Jotun penis (which it would), Tony knew he'd be in for a hell of a ride that would result in him walking and sitting funny for (probably) weeks.

Love? Pffft. Nah.

Tony sighed, climbing back under his blanket and shutting out the light and the crazy.

And Tony's okay with that, because he never, ever saw Loki cracking before him, not ever.

Definitely would've lost that bet: a precise, analytical god of chaos falling in love with a screwed-up mortal in a week? There should be a song written about it somewhere.

Tony sighed into the couch, "Brain hurts. Naptime."

If possible, the room got even colder.

"Sleep well, My Own."

* * *

It's the cell phone that wakes him up this time.

The handy-dandy Stark phone is screeching the theme song from _Bill Nye the Science Guy._

"Great, the bestie," Stark mumbles as he fudges his way to wherever-the-fuck he dropped his phone. He grabs it and answers on the, what, thirtieth ring?

"You know, there's this really cool thing called voice mail," Stark said into the receiver, yawning away his irritation.

"You never listen to your voice mail," Bruce countered calmly.

"Yeah, well, Jarvis does. I worry about him making friends," Tony said flippantly, falling back onto whatever expensive-as-shit piece of furniture his ass found first, "So wassup? Finally back home to enjoy the man cave?"

"Not exactly. Clint picked me up from the airport."

"That's way too nice of him. What was the catch?"

"Work, of course. We're being called in. Apparently Fury doesn't care that the Other Guy has severe issues with jetlag."

Tony couldn't help himself: he busted out laughing at the thought of the Hulk having a temper tantrum over naptime thanks to international time zone changes.

Then his brain caught up, "Whoa, wait, being called in? I haven't been called in. And for what? What city desperately needs saving from giant lizard people now?"

"I don't know. Clint's being all, you know, agent-y, and Steve isn't here yet. Natalia's, um, actually giving me that dagger-through-the-throat look? You know the one."

"Yeah, I can feel it from here. So, what? Am I supposed to jet to you guys now or something? It's weird getting The Call from you, Big Guy."

"All I know is that it isn't good."

"Okay, alright, buddy. Here I come, Stark Tower."

"Um, hold on, Tony. Natasha wants-"

"Tony," Nat's voice was suddenly on the line and Stark rolled his eyes, "Is there any particular reason why S.H.I.E.L.D is unable to track you right now?"

"Good morning to you too, sweetheart," Tony mumbled, running a hand through his hair, "And what? Can't a guy ever get a vacation from his AI? I de-active Jarvis from one location for a few days and you guys get all suspicious. Can't a guy be alone for a pity party without getting the third degree?"

"You never deactivate Jarvis."

"Technically he's not offline, he's just not at this location. I'm not a moron, Nat. If it makes you feel better, I'll reactivate him here right now."

"Does your pity party have something to do with that ridiculous interview on_ Letterman?"_

Oh, so that was the show he'd been on. Eh. They all start to blur together after you've done it a million times.

And Nat was practically a human lie detector. Tony was glad he'd done that stupid interview and run his mouth, 'cuz if there's one thing Nat knew about Tony was that he was pretty emotionally unstable.

So, roll with it. Technically, it wasn't a lie.

"Okay, yeah, maybe it does. Again, none of your business, big sis."

He could practically hear Natalia's eye roll from across the country, "We haven't been briefed yet. I don't like sitting here blind, especially when you completely dropped off the radar."

"Good to know you care. I feel the love."

"Just get to the tower. Steve's on his way and Fury has his hackles raised: whatever this is, we're in for a long one."

"Oh joy. Fine, whatever, I'm on my way, but I'm not changing out of my pajamas."

Tony hung up, his skin prickling at the realization that this was going to become a really messy situation if Loki didn't play nice.

"Loki?" Tony called out. He couldn't reactive Jarvis until he had the god's cooperation.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Great. Just fucking great," Tony said, running a hand over his face. It didn't necessarily mean it was Thor's grand entrance, but it could mean he was on his way, and Tony did not want to get caught with his pants down.

At least not yet.

"Loki, come on, where are you?" Tony said, beginning to wander through the kitchen and into his bedroom they'd shared the night before, "Shit is about to go down, and I mean some serious shit, so can we talk? Please? We need a plan."

Still no answer.

The quiet was making Tony's heart race.

He couldn't panic yet. No way. No way did Loki leave.

"He wouldn't do that," Tony chanted to himself as he started tearing through every room of the house.

"Loki!" he bellowed. He could hear rain hitting the roof now. It was dark out; he had slept the afternoon away. He didn't know what time it was, but he had given Loki hours alone to think.

And that wasn't good. It couldn't be good.

'Cuz Loki wouldn't leave, would he? He wouldn't have…he didn't think…

Did he think Tony had rejected him?

Shit, he'd been mad, pissed off, but…he didn't…

Tony went outside to the pool deck, the rain pounding into his overheated skin. He was practically shaking.

Fuck. Not a good time for a nervous breakdown.

The Avengers were waiting. Thor was on his way; maybe the Asgardian warriors were already here. Then Tony had a wild fantasy that they had somehow kidnapped Loki, found him already without Tony even realizing it.

Or he just left.

Gone.

Maybe he was laughing in another galaxy right now, his little game complete. Poor Iron Man, stupid lovesick puppy.

"Tony?"

Tony practically had a heart attack as he glanced at the pool, a very blue, very Jotun Loki staring back at him, concern on his face. He was naked. Tony noticed that ice had formed around the contours of the pool. How had he not noticed that? It was probably fucking freezing in there.

"Tony, you are going to catch your death out here," Loki said quietly, stepping from the pool as if to touch Tony, but he stopped himself, "What is the matter, My Own?"

Tony wiped at his eyes, "Fuck, I thought, Christ…just, just come inside with me, 'kay? Come on."

"Tony?"

"Now!" Tony said, turning his back on the god and heading straight for his shower. He was soaked through, not necessarily cold, but his mom had always made him take hot showers when he got caught in rain when he was a kid.

Steam started billowing up in the shower as Tony started to strip, Loki hanging back in the doorway. Tony tried to ignore the fact that he was naked again.

"You should've told me you felt like skinny dipping," Tony snarked, covering his previous fear with anger, "I was looking everywhere for you."

"I do not understand."

Tony turned on the god, "I woke up and you were gone! I'm getting called in, The Avengers are assembling, Thor's probably already here if that storm is anything to go by, and you were gone! What do you think? I practically had a heart attack, and you were fucking SWIMMING."

"I was feeling restless. I told you that water calms me," there was a bite to Loki's tone, and for a moment, he looked and sounded very much like ice, "then again, perhaps you thought that was a lie as well."

"Don't even," Tony began, shucking the rest of his clothes and slipping into the hot shower. It was scalding, "Don't even try to use that as an excuse. I'm fucking pissed."

"I do not know what it is you expect of me," Loki said almost quietly, "do you wish for an apology?"

"Would you even mean it?"

"You were cold. My proximity…I wanted to be alone while you rested."

"And you couldn't hear me yelling for you? Don't you have like super-hearing and shit?"

"I was underwater."

"For what? Hours?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Tony ran his hands through his hair, trying to ignore the blue outline he could make out through the fog of his distorted glass shower. He wondered how well Loki could see him. Actually, maybe he shouldn't think about that.

He turned the water off and stepped out, grabbing one of many monogrammed towels and passing Loki, ignoring the immediate chill of passing so close to him. He headed straight for one of his many big closets, rummaging around until he found some thick jackets he had used on a skiing trip in Sweden. Maybe. Whatever, they were super thick and made for freezing weather. He found the matching pants and put on four pairs of socks.

"What are you doing?"

"Preparing," Tony said, finally standing up and zipping up all his layers and putting on a pair of thick skiing gloves, "I have to go meet the Avengers, but I'm not leaving 'til I get some kind of contact from you, 'cuz Jesus Christ, Loki, you scared the hell out of me and all I wanna do is hug the shit out of you right now, and I can't do that if you're all freaked out about me freezing to death."

"Tony –"

"My house, my rules," Tony mumbled absently, attaching himself to the god's side like a suckerfish. A shiver ran down his body at the sudden contact, but it wasn't unbearable. Uncomfortable, yeah, his body was fighting against the unnatural instinct, but fuck that.

After a few moments, Loki seemed to relax into the embrace, allowing his hands to travel over Tony's back, tracing soothing circles.

"I am sorry I worried you, Anthony. I did not think I would be gone so long."

Tony had pulled the hoodies over his head so he could lay his cheek against the god's chest, but it was beginning to burn. He didn't care, "Not a cool move. I'm not mad though. I mean, I was, but you're not lying. I won't question it. I mean, you're still here, so…but if you had left…I thought…I don't want this to be some sick game you're playing. If you want revenge against the Avengers, please don't let me be a part of it. I don't think…I really couldn't handle that."

Loki stiffened, his hands moving to Tony's arms, rubbing them gently, "I would not. I thought about it, but I could not. Not now. You are mine, and I protect what is mine."

"If you're caught, convincing them you're not going to kill me is going to be the biggest hurdle."

"No. Convincing them that I will not harm this world is going to be the biggest hurdle. If they try to remove you from me, I will reduce Midgard to ashes."

"Hey, don't get dramatic on me now. I'm only going to be gone for a little while."

"I do not want you gone at all," Loki admitted into Tony's shoulder, his breath so cold Tony's whole body shivered, "but you are safer this way."

"I'll be back in a few days. I'll make my appearance, pull some classic Tony Stark, and come back here."

"Your team is not that blind, My Own. They will catch on to your strange behavior: leaving town every weekend is going to make them question you more."

"Not necessarily. If anything, it might keep them off my back. Me running off isn't exactly anything new, especially since they aren't going to find you off threatening cities with new reindeer antlers."

"If I could use magic…things would be different."

"It'll be okay. You can call me whenever you want. I have to reactivate Jarvis, so he'll be online. All you have to do is tell him you want to talk to me. I'll just have to reroute the video feeds to loop last weekend when nobody was here: don't want anybody snooping and coming across footage of my Frost Giant."

Loki squeezed Tony closer, sighing deeply, "Then go, My Own, so you may return sooner."

"Aw, miss me already, babe?"

"Patience is not one of my virtues, despite what people believe about me."

Tony snorted, "Right, like that time you waited _seven years_ to get your hands on some magic helmet?"

Loki absently petted at Tony's shoulders, "That was taking advantage of opportunity. It is easy to have patience when you have multiple distractions."

"I taught you how to use the Xbox and the DVD player. You'll be fine," Tony said, patting the side of Loki's head with a thick-gloved hand, "Now, this is the part where I'm supposed to dramatically kiss you before making my exit, but you'll just have to deal with some air kisses."

"Air kisses?"

Tony started blowing kisses at Loki, bursting out laughing when Loki's eyes widened, like he didn't know what to do at the strange Midgardian custom, "You're supposed to catch them, Lokes. Don't you love me?"

"Of course I do," he said petulantly, staring at the air as if the kisses would reveal themselves, "but kisses cannot be caught."

"A riddle for my trouble maker, then. Have an answer for me when I get back," Tony said, blowing him another kiss and fighting a yawn.

* * *

Tony decided to ride back to New York in real style. In his suit.

'Cuz yeah, it was more tiring then taking the jet, but man was it fun.

When he finally landed at Stark Tower, the suit disassembling as he walked on the new restored platform, he could see his team waiting for him on the inside.

Nat, Bruce, Clint, Fury, and even Thor.

And Thor looked…well, wrecked was a good word, he supposed. Like he hadn't slept in weeks. Not a good look for Point Break. He wasn't even wearing his armor.

Tony didn't know what to make of the situation: wouldn't he be in full battle mode? And where were his little band of Robin Hood warriors?

"Yo," he said, walking in and heading straight to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of apple juice, "What's going on, everybody?"

"Take a seat, Stark. This isn't playtime," Fury snapped.

"Obviously not. I'm still wearing my pajamas," Tony said with a smile. He was wearing Hulk pajama bottoms that dragged to his toes and a Captain America t-shirt. Bruce just shook his head and smirked while the Captain sighed.

Nobody had a sense of humor anymore, dammit.

"I know it sounds difficult, but I can stand and listen at the same time," Tony said, taking a big gulp of juice. Ah, good ol' apple juice.

"Fine. Then let's begin," Fury said, turning to face the window.

Tony had to admit the man always looked more dramatic when he turned away from them in that leather coat, his voice rumble-y and extra _don't-fuck-with-me_, "It has come to our attention that Loki has escaped from Asgard. As of this moment, he is a dangerous fugitive. Thor has been sent back to recapture and return Loki to Asgard."

Everybody just sat silently for a moment.

Then everybody looked at Thor.

Thor lifted his head, "He must be here. There is nowhere else he would go. I fear for all of you, so I came as soon as I was able. My warriors scour Jotunheim, his home realm, as I speak. The All Father feared he would rouse what was left of his people and lead them into war."

"The crazy bastard would do something like that," Fury spat, turning back to face the team, "And according to Thor, we have no means of tracking him until he shows his evil-ass face."

Thor continued to look like a kicked puppy, "I do not understand. I have not sensed his magic in all this time. I do not know where to look, or where to go, other than here. I needed to warn you, for I cannot predict his actions. I fear his temper, his need for vengeance. I do not want innocent blood spilled again."

The room was quiet for a moment, and then Bruce piped up, "What if he's not using his magic because he knows that's the only way to trace him?"

_Goddammit, Bruce, stop using your giant brain!_

This statement just made Thor look even more confused, "But his magic…it is the source of his power, of who he is. A Loki without magic…it would be like Mjolnir being taken from me."

"So he's weak. Vulnerable," Natasha deadpanned, her face a blank mask, "We should compile a list of all his previously-known locations."

"You mean all the places he's been," Clint said quietly, an edge to his voice, "He never slept, he never stopped moving. He won't be sitting in a secret warehouse in Stuttgart."

"No. He'll come for us," Nat said, her eyes falling on Tony and making him shiver on the inside, "if he's not using magic, he must be biding his time. Like a sleeper cell, docile until the time comes when he activates."

"Like a needle in a human haystack," Bruce murmured, rubbing at his eyes, "He could, quite literally, be anywhere in the world."

"But he wouldn't be," Nat continued, and Tony had to remind himself that his team wasn't stupid, that they were all fucking smart in their own ways, and that Tony was probably really, really screwed, "he wants revenge. He wants us. New York was where he failed. He would return to that failure. He must be in New York."

Tony tried to hide a smirk by taking another sip.

_HA, he's sure as hell not in New York. Try the opposite side of the country!_

"So what? We hunt every nook and cranny of New York?" Steve piped up, arms across his chest, "That's a wild goose chase if I ever heard one."

Tony yawned, leaning into the side of the bar. Shit, he was fucking tired. What was up with the constant naps lately? The past week had been nothing but sleep: how the hell could he possibly be tired?

Anyways.

"So there's literally nothing we can do. We have to wait for him to fuck up, is what you're saying. Either he uses magic and Thor goes Hammer Time on his ass, or he goes homicidal maniac and starts slaughtering people with that stupid helmet again, but until that day, we're scratching our asses wondering what the psychopath's doing," Tony scoffed and shook his head, "And I thought I flew 3,000 miles for something _urgent."_

"Is the return of a murdering psychopath not urgent enough for you, dumbass?" Fury asked, arms crossed menacingly, "You're all on red alert until we have something to go on. For now, I suggest you all rest up. This shit can only get uglier before it gets better."

"So what, house arrest?" Tony snapped back.

"Look, until we know more about the situation, you're sitting where I can see you. All of you," Fury warned, making eye contact with each member, "Nobody goes anywhere or does anything without my say-so."

"I don't take orders from nannies. I'm out. Jarvis, unlock garage three. I feel like the ferrari," Tony said flippantly, heading for the elevator.

"You're on lockdown, Stark. You're not going anywhere," Fury warned.

Tony turned on him as the doors dinged, "Funny. Last time I checked, I owned this place, and you sure as hell don't own me."

"Tony, don't be an idiot, we have orders…" Steve began, but Tony just glared at him and he trailed off.

"I've said it once and I'll say it again: I'm not one of your soldiers. I'm the fucking Iron Man. I'm a big boy with big boy lasers and I can take care of my damn self. If Loki wants to come at me, let him."

Before the doors could close on Tony, the doors were stopped by a very big and very pissed off Thor.

Thor reached forward, tugging Tony back out of the lift and slamming him into the wall.

"Whoa, chillax, Point Break. I don't have beef with you," Tony said, not liking how the god was throwing him around like a rag doll.

Tony was seriously beginning to freak out as Thor studied him, one of his giant hands moving Tony's chin back and forth, looking into his eyes.

Oh shit, shit, shit! What the _fuck_ was he looking for? Could he smell Loki or something? Did gods have the noses of bloodhounds?

"Get _off_ of me," Tony said, shoving at Thor's unmovable strength.

"I do not understand," Thor said quietly, releasing his hold slowly as Clint had come up and put a hand on his shoulder, Bruce not far behind, his face stern.

"What?" Tony said, now that all the attention was on him. Great. The one time he didn't want all the attention.

Thor's eyes were hard, "Where is he, Tony?"

And it was the seriousness, the way he said his name instead of Man of Iron that Tony knew he was really, truly fucked this time.

And Thor was supposed to be the most dense out of them all.

"What are you _talking about?_ Did hopping through a portal fry your He-Man brain?"

"Somebody better start explaining," Bruce said, breathing through his nose now.

"Thor, you're tired, everybody's high strung. You look like you haven't slept in months–" but Clint couldn't even finish his little soothing speech because Thor was grabbing Tony by the neck with both hands.

"I am sorry," Thor said, squeezing harder, "but this is the only way."

Tony started kicking out, wishing he'd left his fucking suit on. There was no way this was happening: big, golden retriever Thor was his friend. Or at least, he had thought they had managed to build a pretty good friendship, but obviously he was wrong.

"Thor, stop, what are you doing?" Steve said, pushing forward to grab at Thor's arm.

Tony's whole body hurt, his head pounding fiercely, like an instant migraine. Clint was yelling; Steve was trying to get Thor into a headlock.

Then the room burst with blue light and cold. Tony's skin felt like ice.

"Release him!" Loki snarled.

Then Thor was flying through the air, along with Clint who had been standing too close.

Thankfully they didn't hit the new windows.

Tony's ass hit the floor, his breathing heavy as he tried to catch his breath, fighting the white dots in his vision.

"Loki!" Thor bellowed back, his face full of rage.

Loki's eyes were like lava.

Natasha and Fury had drawn guns. Clint had drawn an arrow while Steve was crouched.

The Hulk bellowed.

Fuck, fuck, and _fuck._


End file.
